Neville Longbottom and the Sword of Gryffindor
by Imbeni
Summary: EWE story detailing the adventures of Neville Longbottom during his seventh year at Hogwarts, while the Trio is off horcrux hunting. Parallels cannon closely. Features Ginny and Luna in extremely prominent roles, as well as showing what happens to other characters at the school. Please review, they are life blood to a fan fiction writer.
1. Coming of Age

**Chapter One: Coming of Age**

Neville woke up slowly, pulling himself out of a dream where he, Ginny, and Luna had been pulling weeds out of his Gran's garden. The details were fuzzy, but he had the impression that they weren't unhappy about the work, just enjoying spending time together. Of course, as the dream closed, one of the weeds had grown a head that looked like Professor Snape's, and had tried to eat them all. Still, all in all, Neville thought the dream mostly pleasant.

He kept his eyes shut, trying to go back to sleep, back into the dream so he could pull up the Snape weed and watch it wither, but it was hopeless. Now that he was awake, he could feel the sunlight streaming in from his bedroom skylight, and his body was telling him it was time to move, to get things done. After all, like his dream, the garden did need weeding, and though he would have preferred to have his friends there to help him, he understood why they couldn't make it today.

Slowly opening his eyes, he found he'd turned in the night towards his window, which looked out on the garden he'd just been dreaming about. One of the hills between which his Gran's home was nestled was just barely in view, casting a shadow over the large garden out front. The sun was just peaking over the mountain, and several of the plants had turned towards its light. A couple of the snapping dragons had uprooted themselves in the night and were chasing after one of the garden gnomes, but this was fairly normal for a summer's day.

The walls of Neville's room were painted a dull, earthy brown, and twining up and down them, and growing up to the ceiling, were vines, real green, living vines. The flowers on the vines were starting to open up as the sunlight hit them, revealing blooms that shifted, seemingly at random, between all the colors of the rainbow. It had taken Neville an entire summer to get the spells right to make sure the vines didn't overgrow and cause damage to his Gran's house, but he'd been determined to do it, and so he had, under his Gran's watchful eye. At first, he'd been concerned about using magic outside of Hogwarts before his seventeenth birthday, but when he'd asked Gran about doing it for him; she had insisted he do it himself.

"The law says you can't do magic unsupervised," she'd instructed, "and as I will be supervising, it's perfectly alright."

Secretly, Neville thought she was just relieved that he could do magic at all and wanted to encourage him to keep doing so at every possible turn. She even had him using his wand for weeding, but Neville quite enjoyed the feeling of his hands in the brown earth. When left to his own devices, he put his wand away and pulled and planted without magic.

Beside his bed, which was only barely big enough for him, stood a small nightstand, piled with several different copies of the _Daily Prophet_, as well as a reading lamp. A small, cactus-like plant in a pot rested beside the newspapers, occasionally quivering all on its own, leaning towards the light of the new day.

Neville slowly sat up, stretching the sleep from his body, letting the quilt that covered him slide back to the bed. His eyes wandered around the room before settling on the top copy of the _Daily Prophet_. The picture on the front page was of a boy Neville's age, wearing glasses, with messy black hair, and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Occasionally, the boy lifted his hand to try and hide from the cameras, like he didn't want his picture taken at all.

Neville remembered when that picture had been taken, just after the fight in the Department of Mysteries, when Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and he fought a bunch of Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange.

Though he had read the article several times, Neville picked up the fading copy of the _Prophet_ and started reading it from the middle of the page.

_So far, the Ministry of Magic has been quite mum about The Boy Who Lived. What little information this reporter has been able to gather is sporadic at best. What can be confirmed is that he had been residing at the home of a Muggle relative for some time, a home that is now completely deserted. While Rufus Scrimgeour did confirm that Harry Potter had been moved, when asked about the boy's whereabouts, he would only say, "Mr. Potter is safely hidden away, beyond the grasp of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as well as his lackeys." Further questions about the whereabouts of You-Know-Who, and what is being done to counter him, were met only with, "No Comment"_

Neville stopped reading, not even remotely interested in what the Minister had to say about the war. The crimp on any war information had not let up, so anything that came from the Ministry was automatically suspect. Instead, he focused on Harry being safe, wherever he was.

Setting the paper down, he stood up, and started dressing for the day. As he slid his pants on, he was surprised that one of the pockets had grown quite warm. Reaching inside, he found a single Galleon, magically connected to several others, bore a message for him. He took it out, and examined it closely.

"_Happy Birthday, Nev,_" the message began, "_Gift next I see you. Gin._"

Neville couldn't help but smile. It warmed his heart that Ginny had remembered his birthday, even if she couldn't be here to celebrate it with him. While the coins were limited by how much you could put on them, he'd been able to gather that Ginny was with Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, even if she couldn't tell him where.

For a moment, he wished he could be there too, helping the Order of the Phoenix out, protecting Harry, taking the fight to the Death Eaters. He was certain he could have helped if he'd been asked. A big part of him wanted to join the Order, like his parents had. Still, Neville was sure that if they really needed him, they'd have asked for his help, and he was determined to be there to give it.

After all, in the past two years, he'd already been on the front lines of the war, once standing right beside Harry, defying Death Eaters and holding them off until the Order had shown up, and then again, just a month or two ago, while Harry had been away on a mission with Professor Dumbledore. Ginny, Luna, and he were right in the thick of that battle, standing side by side with Ron, Hermione, and the Order in the fight.

He slid the magical coin back into his pants pocket, and pulled on a sturdy, greenish shirt that had seen better days. While the shirt was clean, it had stains that neither magic nor soap could get out, signs of constant work in Gran's garden. Over his clothes he slid a dragon hide apron. It had pockets for all his gardening tools, as well as one for his wand, enchanted to protect it against most gardening mishaps.

Checking out the window once again, Neville saw that the pair of snapdragons had gotten hold of the garden gnome, and were making merry sport of letting it go just to snap it back up again. Rather than have that mess to clean up, Neville decided it was time to hurry on with his morning work. He checked that he had everything, then opened the door, only to find Gran in front of him, about to knock.

After a brief start, Neville smiled wanly at his gran, who was dressed in similar clothes to his own. "Good, you're ready. We have to de-gnome the garden, and of course the snapping dragons are at it again," she said emphatically.

"I know, Gran," he said, "I saw them from the window. I'll handle the gnomes if you'll tackle the dragons," Neville replied, knowing that she wouldn't trust him with such a delicate job.

"Not today, boy," Gran said, with a slight smile, "Take your wand and deal with the dragons. I'll take care of the gnomes. I may not be able to fling them as far as you, but I guarantee they won't want to come back when I'm done with them."

Neville was too shocked to reply. Normally, Gran only trusted him with the most menial tasks in her garden, not with actually tending to her prized plants.

"You're of age today, Neville," Gran projected into the awkward silence, "It's high time you…well, high time I started treating you like…like the man you've become."

Rather than say anything, Neville simply hugged his Gran. She took his hug very stiffly, and hugged him back as if it was something she hadn't done in years.

"Yes, yes," she said after a few moments, pushing him firmly away, "there's work to be done, and we should get to it. First, however, I should give you your present."

Gran pulled a box from her pocket, and handed it to Neville carefully, like it contained something precious.

"Your fathers watch. He would've wanted you to have it. I had it fixed years ago."

Neville opened the thin box to reveal a gold plated pocket watch inscribed with a fanciful lion on the outside. He took it out gingerly, not sure how fragile it might be. When he clicked the fob, the out face swung open to reveal the watch inside. It had four hands, one for hours, minutes, and seconds, but also a fourth, longer hand that seemed to point at one of the symbols on the outer ring of the face. On the inside of the cover was a simple inscription:

_They also serve who only stand and wait._

Neville looked up at his Gran, tears in his eyes, and whispered, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Neville. Now, go and put it away so we can get to work."

It took a good deal of the morning to pot the snapdragons back down, and the fact they could breathe a cloud of confusion dust at those they didn't like made the process a lot less simple. Neville, however, knew precisely what he was doing, and with patience and diligence coaxed the plants back to their appointed spot. He gave them some extra rabbit meat for being so cooperative, and by that time, there were no gnomes to be seen in the garden. Gran used her wand to fling them almost to the horizon after using a Confundus Charm on them. Neville had used the same process before, though he usually preferred to fling them out by hand. There was something more satisfying to him about spinning them around his head.

The pair of them then went around the garden, harvesting various plants for sale to the Apothecary in Diagon Ally. Business was brisk but small, so while they never got much money in one go, it was a steady stream of income at the end of each week. The owner often commented that Gran's supplies tended to be of far better quality than his other sources for herbs and plant parts, though whether he did this merely for Gran's benefit or because it was true was never clear to Neville.

The work calmed him, allowing his mind to empty and be still. In fact, Neville was never happier than when he had a garden around him, his hands deep in brown earth, repotting plants or pulling up weeds. He really could not understand why so many of his fellow students at Hogwarts didn't like Herbology. Then again, he thought, Professor Snape could never understand why he was so bad at potions either.

_No,_ he checked himself, _not bad, just not brilliant at it. I got an A after all._

They put the day's harvest in the small storage shed on the outskirts of the garden, and headed inside. By this time, it was near noon, and the heat from the summer sun had drenched them both in sweat.

"You're Great Uncle and Aunt are coming over this evening," Gran said as they headed into the house, "So be sure to wear your nice clothes after your shower."

"Yes, Gran," Neville replied quietly, and made his way through the kitchen, using his wand to fix himself a sandwich as he quickly passed through. Normally he'd have fixed his lunch by hand, but he was in a hurry, and he was somewhat relishing the fact that he could use magic with impunity now. He was, however, cautious to also clean everything he'd used as he went. He knew if he didn't, Gran would not approve.

He took a long, lukewarm shower in the bathroom that adjoined his room, allowing the heat of the summer day to slide off him along with the water and soap. The dull ache from the day's work slowly left his limbs, and he felt more himself again. Dressed now in a smart robe of burgundy, and having used his wand to clean the bathroom, he headed downstairs to find the largest owl Neville had ever seen waiting on the dining room table.

"A package just arrived for you, Neville. Please see to it at once, so I can start setting out your birthday dinner," Gran's voice came from the den.

Normally Neville only received his copy of the _Daily Prophet _in the post, so he was curious what had arrived for him. The huge bird looked at him as if it knew exactly what he was thinking, which disconcerted Neville so much he almost forgot the package it had set down on the table. Stripes of brown and white ran down the length of the owl's body, and huge rims of feathers poked beyond its massive head, giving it the impression it had horns. Pulling his gaze away from the owl long enough to look at the package it had brought only confused him more, as it was wrapped in a bright orange paper that almost glowed on its own. It was tied with a sky blue ribbon, and bore a tag on which appeared writing in a small, loopy script. _Happy Birthday, from Luna_, the writing declared, and Neville understood immediately.

He looked back at the owl, and felt strangely as if the bird was about to speak to him, but instead it merely nodded, spread its wings, which filled half the span between the walls of the room, and flew out the largest window in the house, through which it could barely fit. Neville watched it in awe for a moment before it disappeared to the side. He shook himself, and turned back to the package, smiling. He tore open the paper before he could think about it, which dissolved in heatless sparks of red and gold as it tore. Then, clearly but quietly, a soft voice began to sing a birthday song to him. He was amazed both by the magic involved in doing something like this, and that he recognized the voice singing to him as Luna's. He'd never heard her sing before, and thought she had a rather pretty voice.

After the spectacular opening, the boring box behind the paper couldn't help but disappoint him. It was dull brown, with a leaf imprinted on the side. Opening it up, Neville found nothing more remarkable than a silvery spade inside, save for the fact that the handle was bright neon green. A card inside declared that this spade was glow-in-the-dark "for all your nighttime gardening needs". An envelope inside bore his name in the same loopy writing he now recognized as Luna's. Tearing it open, he found a letter inside, which read:

_Neville,_

_I saw last year that your spade had broken, so I thought I'd give you a new one for your birthday. I've made this one unbreakable and rust proof, so you shouldn't have any more problems. Next time shake the_ _wrackspurts_ _away, so you don't lose your focus. Also remember, to get it to glow at night you have to leave it in the sun during the day. I hope you like it._

_Luna_

As he was reading, Gran walked stiffly into the room, now dressed in a set of green robes. She looked at Luna's present with some obvious distaste, but didn't say a word until Neville looked up at her.

"From Miss Lovegood, I assume?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Yeah! It's brilliant, isn't it? Glows in the dark, apparently."

This seemed to puzzle Gran, though she didn't say anything about it. "Well, put it away, Neville, while I prepare dinner. You may do as you like until 6, when your Great Aunt and Uncle are due to arrive."

He quickly cleared off the table, careful to throw the box in the bin. He heard the whooshing sound of the cardboard being magically torn to shreds and sent to a compost pile Gran kept outside for fertilizer. Once upstairs, he put the spade in its place on his gardening apron and pulled his Herbology textbook from last year out of a trunk in his closet. Taking the book, he went downstairs and out the front door into the garden, barely hearing the warnings from his Gran in the kitchen not to get his robes dirty.

He found an old stone bench near the middle of the garden, and sat down to while away his hours reading his favorite subject. He cast a cooling charm on himself so the sun wouldn't make him sweat through his robes, and before he realized it, the sun was sitting very low on the horizon, almost sinking behind the hills that surrounded Gran's home. His attention was so focused on the care and feeding of mandrakes that he failed to notice two strangers coming into the garden. One, a tall older gentleman who shared Neville's round face and soft features, had long white hair mixed with grey, and was dressed on a long, flowing black cloak, dark green robes, and a similarly colored top hat. He carried a cane in one hand, the head of which was a great lion's head.

The other visitor, a woman with dark heavy-lidded eyes and long, thin, shining black hair that cascaded down her back in waves, wore a flowing black robe made of satin. She held on to the gentleman's arm at the elbow with one hand, the other resting easily at her side. The bench that Neville was sitting on faced outward, away from the house, so when he looked up from his textbook, he couldn't help but see the pair walking up the small lane between the rows of plants. At first, he thought it was his Great Aunt and Uncle, but on a second look, his eyes grew wide.

He dropped his book to the ground, and was on his feet in an instant, his wand pulled out in the same fluid motion. "STUPIFY!" he almost screamed, and a jet of red light flew from his wand, aimed at the heart of the dark eyed woman. The gentleman barely got his own wand out in time to deflect the spell and place himself between Neville and the lady.

"Is that any way to greet a guest, Mister Longbottom?" The man said in a voice that oozed charm and fell into the ears like silk. Without another word, the older man waved his wand, and a white jet of light flew at the boy.

Neville, however, had taken the moment the other man gave him to quietly cast a Shielding Charm, so whatever spell that had been flung at him rebounded back on the old man, who dissipated the spell with another wave of his wand.

"Quite impressive-", the older man got out, but Neville did not give him the chance to finish whatever he was saying, as he pointed his wand at the man, shooting a spell at him without a word. He barely had time to put up his own Shielding Charm before the spell got to him, deflecting to the left and into the dirt.

By this time, Gran was out the front door of the house, her own wand out, running as fast as she dared into the fray. The other dark eyed woman pulled her own wand at this point, but kept it pointed away from anyone, seeming to prefer the older man to take the lead.

Neville, in the meantime, was preparing to fling another spell at the pair of intruders.

"Neville, what are you DOING?" his Gran nearly shouted.

"Taking Bellatrix Le..." he began, but stopped short as the other woman stepped a little closer. While her features were definitely shared by many members of the Black family, the woman standing in front of him had wrinkles around her eyes, as well as on the skin of her hands. She was obviously much older than the woman who had tortured Neville's parents into insanity.

"That's not…oh, I…I'm so sorry, miss. I thought…" Neville stammered.

"You just mistook me for a cousin who is 40 years my junior, young man. I'm sure I can forgive you for that," the woman said with a smile, in a kind voice that could not have come from Lestrange, "but I think introductions are in order," she finished with a look towards Gran.

Gran gave the pair of visitors a somewhat disapproving look before she spoke, "Neville, this is your grandfather's uncle, Harfang Longbottom, and his wife, Callidora."

"Your cousin?" Neville asked, barely registering the names.

"What are you doing here, Harfang?" Gran interjected crossly, before Callidora could answer.

"My business is with the young man, not with you, Augusta," Harfang replied dismissively, ignoring her and keeping his gaze on Neville. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. No one talked to Gran like that.

"What business could you possibly have with Neville?" Gran retorted, a dangerous edge in her tone.

"He is of age today, and the eldest male Longbottom, it is my duty to test him to see if he is fit," Harfang drawled in an even tone.

"That ridiculous tradition? You can't be serious!" Gran said, her wand still in her hand.

"Your father and his father before him were tested. Our family has been one of warriors and duelists for the past millennium," Harfang continued looking straight at Neville, seeming to ignore Gran, "and it is because of this tradition that we can still claim that honor today, despite the interference of those who would see it die."

Neville was about to speak up when Gran seemed to come to a decision, and spoke first, "Oh, very well. Neville, put this blow hard in his place for me, would you? I'll just make sure Callidora doesn't interfere."

Neville did not allow himself time to feel his shock at the turn of events, but instead cleared his mind of anything that might distract him. While officially Dumbledore's Army had been disbanded, he, Luna, and Ginny had decided that extra defense practice was well worth the effort, and they had spent many of their off hours last year in the Room of Requirement continuing to work on their skill. Most of the time, it had been just himself and Luna, as Ginny had Quidditch, but she joined them when she could. That extra work had definitely paid off at the end of the year. Now Neville intended to put it to good use once again.

"Your permission was not required," Harfang glowered, but kept his focus on Neville, "Are you ready to begin?"

The duel was short, but fierce. Harfang was a skilled and creative duelist, with years of experience, and it took all of Neville's concentration to keep up with him. However, it became apparent as the duel progressed that Harfang was somewhat out of practice, and that his speed and endurance had waned over the years. Further, Harfang wanted to talk and taunt while he fought, allowing Neville several openings he otherwise would not have had. Neville quickly pressed the small tactical advantage by increasing his own speed and ignoring Harfang's taunts, forcing the old man to react rather than attack. By the time it was finished, Neville had broken Harfang's shield and disarmed him with an Expelliarmus, flinging his wand well out of the old man's reach. Panting and exhausted, the old man raised his hands in defeat.

"I…have never…been beaten…by someone…so young," Harfang got out between panting breaths, "I knew this wasn't your first fight…but I was not prepared…for how skilled you actually are."

"You shouldn't try to talk to someone you're dueling," Neville replied, a little tired himself, but not nearly so much as Harfang, "It left you open. You would have won if you'd just focused on fighting."

"I'm not so sure," Callidora interjected, a broad smile on her face, "I've seen my share of duels as well, and to say that you are exceptional is something of an understatement. I have never seen my husband bested."

Harfang shot Callidora a skeptical look, but said nothing to her. Instead, he took a moment to catch his breath as he collected his wand. Still not trusting this pair of relatives, Neville did not put his wand away.

"Are you quite finished?" Gran said, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice, "If so, I'd quite like you to leave my property."

Harfang narrowed his eyes at Gran, then turned on his heal and stalked off in a huff, but Callidora lingered for a moment.

"We do have a coming of age gift for you, Neville," she said, smiling sweetly as she carefully pulled a large sack from one of the pockets on her robe and held it out to Neville, "We didn't know what you'd like, so we thought a small gift of coin would suffice."

Looking to Gran first, who gave him a curt nod; he took the offered bag from the older woman's hands, but still did not put away his own wand.

"You'll have to forgive my husband; he's not used to losing. However, I would like to say that I'm very, very impressed, Neville. Well done."

With that parting word, she too turned and left the property, Disapparating away just beyond the range of the wards.

"Well, now that that's over with, shall we get ready for your birthday dinner? Your Great Uncle should be here soon." Gran said, smiling widely at her grandson.

Smiling back, he followed Gran into the house.


	2. Great Uncle Algie

**Chapter Two: Great Uncle Algie**

"Of course he's late," Gran muttered when the knock on their door came over half an hour after 6. Dinner had been laid out and ready to eat promptly, and only Gran's adept use of kitchen witchery kept it warm. Neville noticed she had been muttering similar complaints under her breath since 6:01, though he knew better than to say anything himself.

"Well, go answer the door, Neville, don't keep them waiting," Gran said sarcastically as she bustled out of the room. He fought a smile as he walked down the hallway to greet their guests, knowing that Great Uncle Algie would think that Neville was happy to see him.

In truth, Neville's Great Uncle terrified him. Not as badly as Professor Snape used to, but still enough that he did not relish the thought of spending time with his uncle. He had discussed it with Ginny once, and she'd been horrified when she learned some of the things his Great Uncle had done, calling it some form of abuse. Neville had never really thought of it that way before she'd brought it up, but looking back at it now, he had to agree.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by the wide smile and rosy cheeks Great Uncle Algie prided himself on. He was dressed in a pair of dark purple formal robes that were 50 years out of date, his hair actually appeared to have been thoroughly brushed, and even his fingernails shone in the light of the ever burning candles, showing he had gone to the special effort of having his house elf, Mimzee, clean and file them. His long white beard had been trimmed and braided, and a slim golden cord had been woven into the braid. His green eyes appeared to take in everything around him, but if Neville looked into them too long, he was left with the distinct impression that he could see to through them to the back of his Great Uncle's head.

"How's my favorite nephew?" Algie asked, a slight slur in his speech indicating he'd already had a couple of cups of wine.

"He's your only nephew, Algie, but still, he's a keeper," came a voice from behind Algie. As he made his way inside, Great Aunt Eunice walked in with an easy grace by which she always carried herself. She was no less formally dressed in a sparkling silver robe that caught the candlelight, reflecting onto the walls and making interesting shadows dance across them. She was a woman of medium height and build, with long gray hair that tumbled in ripples down her back to her waist. She always preferred to wear her hair loose, though Neville had never thought to ask why. The wrinkles around her blue eyes told of many years of laughing and smiling, despite the mild rigidity she seemed to project. She reminded Neville of his Gran only vaguely, as the two women's temperaments were vastly different.

"Happy Birthday, Neville, it's so good to see you again," she said with a genuine smile, "Did your Gran give you your watch yet?"

"Yes, ma'am," Neville responded politely, as Algie pushed his way past him towards the dining room.

"Come now, my boy, call me Eunice, please. Ma'am makes me feel like an old woman."

Neville couldn't help but smile. He'd always liked his Aunt Eunice, if for no other reason than she tended to keep her husband in check on some of his wilder notions.

"So, tell me," Eunice began, putting her arm around his shoulder as they made their way down the hall after Algie, "Does it feel any different, being a man today?"

"Not really," Neville replied hesitantly, "Should it?"

"It depends entirely on the man, my dear. It not being a big deal for you tells me you're more mature than most boys your age."

By then, the pair of them had made it to the dining room where Algie was just having a seat at the table. The dishes Gran had prepared for Neville's birthday dinner wafted their scents through the dining room, instantly making his mouth water in anticipation, roast pheasant being one of his particular favorite foods. He took a seat on the far side of the table opposite his Great Uncle, while Eunice took her place next to her husband. Gran was already seated at the head of the table dressed in her deep green dress robes, a disapproving look camped on her face as she stared at her brother.

"So kind of you to join us, Algie," Gran said, her voice dripping with sarcastic politeness, "Since it's likely I'll neither accept nor believe your excuse for your lateness, let's skip right to dinner, shall we?

"Sounds like a grand idea, since I'd half ignore your lecture anyway," Algie retorted, picking up his cutlery and getting ready to tuck in.

Anger flashed in Gran's eyes, but before she could unleash on her brother, Eunice placed a warning hand on Algie's arm and responded, "It was my fault, Augusta. It took me so long to get ready, as I simply had to look my best for such a momentous occasion."

"I see," Gran replied, her tone icy and dangerous, her eyes focused on her brother, "well, I would suggest you not make a habit of it, _except that it already is_."

"Look, Augusta," Algie sighed, only slightly apologetic, "I'm sorry, alright? I just…I lost track of time."

"Well, I suppose forgiveness is the better part of virtue," Gran replied, only slightly mollified, "Just try not to be so rude in the future."

"Yes, ma'am," Algie said, the smile slowly returning to his face.

"And don't give me that smile of yours. Just because I'm letting it slip this once doesn't mean you're completely off the hook."

If anything, Gran's retort only broadened Algie's smile.

Neville had long ago gotten used to staying out of these little battles of will between his Gran and her brother. Algie had practically been raised by Gran, and he still chafed a little under her authority. At times, it seemed to Neville that his Great Uncle had never really grown up from being a teenager, an observation his Gran had made more than once.

The tension at the table dwindled as the conversation turned towards small talk and dinner began in earnest. After Algie's first glass of wine, he started talking about several wizards and witches Neville had never heard of, though both Gran and Eunice knew who these people were. The gossip didn't interest Neville in the slightest, so he instead focused on his meal, taking the time to thoroughly enjoy every bite of his wheat berry salad. He absolutely loved his Gran's cooking, especially when she cooked for special occasions.

Algie had his second glass of wine about half way through his salad, and his speech was far more noticeably slurred as he talked about some of the scandals happening around Diagon Alley. Neville's Great Uncle was far more interested in who had slighted who and which shop keeper was knocking up which other than the fact that You-Know-Who was back and several of those same shop keepers had disappeared or been kidnapped.

Algie complained, "Can't get pomegranate marshmallow fudge ice cream anymore either. Only Fortescue made that, and no one else knows the recipe

"That's the great tragedy of Voldemort's return," Neville interjected quietly "no pomegranate marshmallow fudge ice cream."

"See?" Algie said, "The boy understands! What's the world coming to if you can't get a decent scoop of ice cream anymore?"

Algie continued on with his diatribe on the state of the world, and Eunice simply ignored the rebuke. Gran, on the other hand, looked Neville in the eye, smiled, and gave him a wink.

They finished their salads, and Algie began on his third cup of wine as Gran served the roast pheasant.

"So, birthday boy," Algie began, turning his full attention to Neville, "How're things at Hogwarts? Old Slughorn put you in his Slug Club yet?"

"I don't want to be in the Slug Club. Ginny says it's deadly dull," Neville replied.

"Well why not, boy? He's got all the connections you'd need to get you in as an Auror, despite not having the right NEWTs. You should try harder. It's your last year, after all."

"If Neville doesn't want to be in Horace's silly little gang, he doesn't have to be," Gran interceded, "Besides, I always found that man to be a total bore. All he's interested in is politics. Good riddance, I say."

"How else is the boy supposed to be an Auror, Augusta? You do still want to be an Auror, don't you boy?"

"Yes, I do, but…" Neville tried to respond.

"Well there you are, then. He's got to make the connections now if he wants to get in for law enforcement, and Slughorn's the best way, since McGonnagal wouldn't see reason and let the boy take…"

"Minerva is rather a dear friend of mine, Algie, and I'll thank you not to speak ill of her. Her decision was quite right, Neville simply would not have been able to keep up with advanced Transfiguration. He's doing quite well in Charms and Defense, and outstandingly well in Herbology. He has plenty of career opportunities based on those alone."

"Why on earth did you keep on in Care of Magical Creatures then, boy? Useless subject, dead end, plus it's still being taught by that half-giant fellow. I've heard all about him, and why Albus lets him teach anything is beyond me."

"I like the class, and Hagrid is my friend." Neville said loyally.

"It's not about what you like, boy. Great wizard once said it doesn't matter what you teach a boy, as long as he doesn't like it. Too right, that."

"Enough, Algie. Neville's teachers and I all agree he's doing quite well at Hogwarts. Professor Sprout is particularly proud of his accomplishments."

"But…" Algie tried to continue, but a withering look from Gran cut him off. "Have you at least found a nice girl yet? What about that…that moon girl…what was her name?"

"Luna and I are just friends," Neville replied, not for the first time trying to get this notion out of his Great Uncle's head.

"Luna, that's her name. Romance is built on friendship, boy. Eunice and I were just friends in school, but it grew during our last year. You mark my words, boy, you and this Luna girl will find yourselves alone in the Astronomy tower late at night, you'll see."

Neville stood up, pushing his chair out from under him, his hands balling into fists.

"Luna is not that kind of girl," Neville tried to say in his most dangerous tone.

"See, he's sticking up for her honor, isn't he! That's love, that is," Algie slurred.

"Sit down, Neville," said Gran, her voice cutting the tension in the room like a severing charm, "And Algie, apologize to Neville. You just insulted one of his closest friends."

"Oh…I…right, I'm sorry, boy. I'm a little drunk. Eunice, more wine?"

As Eunice filled Algie's cup for the fourth time, Neville righted his chair and sat back down at the table in a huff. Internally, Neville was kicking himself for letting Algie get to him over Luna. It wasn't the first time he'd asked about some form of romance between them, and it likely wouldn't be the last. Neville attacked his roast pheasant with a vengeance, and finished it in silence as the conversation turned away from him again.

By the time Gran decided to bring in Neville's Birthday cake, Algie had finished his fourth cup and was well into his fifth. His speech was so slurred as to be barely comprehensible, but he still insisted on blathering on about this story or that. Neville knew that paying any attention to his Great Uncle at this point was an effort in futility, so he tried to completely tune him out. He blew out the candles to Gran and Eunice singing him a birthday song, with Algie trying and utterly failing to harmonize.

"Sho, boy," Algie began after the song was over, "What…What….did shoo wish for? I'll bet…I'll bet shoo wished for a kish from that…that moon girl of yoursh."

"No," Neville replied, refusing to let Algie bait him again, "I wished for a quick end to the war."

"Pfffftttt," Algie intoned, waving his hand dismissively, "Grindawald was a war. Thish, thish ish just…just…a phipo…philsho…philoshophical debate. A contesht of ideas, boy. Noshing wrong with a good debate, boy. Itsh…itsh needed sometimes."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Algie, but aren't debates supposed to be civilized affairs, and don't they usually not involve kidnappings and murders?" Gran asked pointedly.

"They're jusht…jusht…committed to their ideash, Augushta! I'm sure…sure everyone will be alright in the end. Beshides, not all of…all of their ideash are bad, right?"

"No. All of their ideas are bad, make no mistake," Augusta said.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't have been dishappointed if…if the boy here had turned out to be a shquib. I shaw…shaw how you shmiled when he bounced through the garden, rather than…than…"

"Rather than dying, you mean?" Gran retorted, a cold and rigid tone to her voice, "Go ahead, tell me again that I was happy only because Neville was a wizard, and not because he survived your stupidity. See what it gets you,"

"Don't get all high and mighty wish me! You…you shaid more than once…more than once how worried shoo were about…about the boy, before I dropped him!"

"No, I was worried how other people would treat him. Too many people think exactly like you, believing the idea that because we have magic, we are somehow better than Muggles. If Voldemort and his followers are what supremacy of magic means, I'll have none of it, thank you very much. I've known too many good Muggles in my time, and too many terrible witches and wizards, to believe that magic gives us any form of moral superiority. The way you reacted to Neville while he seemed to be without the gift is proof enough of that."

It took Algie a few moments of thinking her response through before he replied, "Now shee here, Augushta! I'll not have you…have shoo inshulting me in my own home!"

"We're not in your home, Algie, we're in mine," Gran countered, "And if you find the truth to be an insult, you only have yourself to blame for it."

"Augusta, please," Eunice interjected desperately, "Algie's not himself right now. He's just had a little too much to drink. You know how he can be when he's a little tipsy. Surely you can forgive him for speaking out of turn?"

"NO!" Neville shouted, startling everyone in the room by slamming his fist on the table and rattling the dishes. His outburst was greeted with shocked silence which suddenly Neville was at a loss to fill.

"Neville, go ahead, dear. You have our attention, so now you must speak up," Gran said, her tone eerily neutral.

"I…" Neville began hesitantly, keenly aware of the three sets of eyes that were now locked on him, as well as the bruise that was going to turn his hand black and blue very shortly. He stared grasping for something to say, anything, but he wasn't entirely sure himself why he'd shouted now. "Do you remember Blackpool Pier, Uncle?" Neville blurted out.

"Yesh, but I don't see what…" Algie began.

"Hush, Algie, let Neville speak," Gran said, cutting him off.

"I almost drowned. I remember water filling my chest after I hit the water. I remember how it burned, not being able to breathe. I remember knowing, that I was going to die. You almost killed me, Uncle. I should have died. Do you remember why I didn't?"

"Shomeone…someone swam out and pulled you in…"

"A Muggle, Uncle Algie. She pulled me to shore. I was unconscious, so I don't remember anything. Do you remember what happened?"

"She…she kisshed you…right?"

"Yeah. It's something called CPR. The Muggles know how to get you breathing, how to get your heart working, using just their breath and their hands. They can do that without magic, Uncle. Now, the main thing is, where were you?"

"I…I wash on the pier…"

"Why didn't you save me?"

"I can't…can't shwim…"

"What about magic? You could have used your wand," Neville replied, getting in his rhythm now.

"It'sh against the law, boy, using magic in front of Muggles…"

"So you couldn't save me, but a Muggle could."

"Yesh, I shuppose that's…that's…"

"So why should I forgive you for saying that magic folk are better than Muggles and squibs, when a Muggle saved my life, and you couldn't? I was only drowning in the first place because of you! And then you say that nearly killing me a second time was a GOOD thing? Just because I lived doesn't make up for you DROPPING ME OUT A WINDOW. I COULD HAVE DIED, Uncle, all because YOU didn't want a squib for a nephew! So, no, I'm not going to forgive you for saying what you've always been thinking. Instead, I think I want you to leave. I think I don't want to see you ever again."

"Now hold on a moment, Neville, let's not be so hasty with words and say something we'll regret," Eunice said conciliatorily, "I understand you're upset now, but speaking out of anger is never good for anyone."

"The only thing I regret is not saying something before, Eunice," Neville replied angrily. Turning to face Gran, he said, "May I please be excused?"

"You may, Neville. We'll have a chat about this later," Gran said warningly.

"But…your cake? Don't you want some of your cake?" Eunice pleaded.

"I'm not hungry. Feel free to eat it without me."

With that last retort, Neville fled the dining room, rushing upstairs to his room as fast as he dared, closing the door quietly behind him to shut out his Great Uncle's complaints about what a rude and obnoxious nephew he had.

About an hour later, Neville heard the front door open and close, signaling the departure of his Great Aunt and Great Uncle. He had pulled out his old copy of _Magical_ _Water Plants of the Mediterranean_ and curled up on his bed to read, hoping to calm his ragged nerves. He was hardly surprised when the knock came on his door a few moments later, indicating it was time for that "chat" Gran had promised. He considered ignoring it for all of two seconds but came to his senses.

"Come in," he said, very softly.

The door opened softly, and Gran walked in quietly, her face unreadable. Knowing what was coming, Neville couldn't help but cringe. He wasn't exactly afraid of his Gran, so much as terrified of disappointing her.

"I'm so sorry, Gran. I was angry, and I spoke out of turn. It won't ever happen again, I promise. He just made me so angry, thinking like he does when a Muggle saved me. It's just not right the way he's treated me, both Ginny and Luna said so, and he just got to me tonight. However you decide I need to make up for it, I'll…"

Gran held up a hand to silence her grandson. "I want to be very clear with you right now, Neville, so let me speak without interruption."

Neville simply nodded, nearly in tears.

"What you said tonight was pointed, and it was not kind. Your Great Uncle was very hurt by your accusations, make no mistake, and likely will not forgive you for your outburst anytime soon. I think this is all to the good. What your Great Uncle has done to you over the years is unconscionable, and I for one think it's high time you brought him to task for it."

"Wait…so…you're not mad at me?" Neville asked, shocked.

"Quite on the contrary, I couldn't be prouder of you. I just wonder why it took you so long."

"I didn't want to be rude to a guest…"

"Neville, when someone is doing wrong, you do them a disservice by not telling them. This is especially true of your family, since you will have to see them again at some point, and if you don't correct them the behavior will likely continue."

"So, I don't have to see him again, if I don't want to?"

"No, but I think at some point you'll change your mind. No matter what they may do, Neville, family is still family, and in the end, they are all we really have," Gran said with great tenderness and a touch of sadness. "On a brighter note, while Algie may be many things, stingy has never been one of them. I brought you his gift, if you still want it."

"He still left it, even after all that?" Neville asked stunned.

Gran simply smiled. "No matter what, you're still family to him, Neville. In his own way, he does love you, even if he doesn't show it very well."

"What is it?"

"It's wrapped; so I really have no idea. Your Uncle was very careful to tell me that only you must unwrap it," Gran replied.

"Ok…well, I can at least see what it is, I suppose."

Gran handed him the gift without a further word. It was wrapped in simple red and gold paper, Algie's proudest moment was when Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor, and bore a simple card with Neville's name. It was thin and round but had great heft to it as Gran handed it over to him.

He unwrapped it quickly, very curious as to what was inside, only to find nothing more elaborate than a small round mirror with no handle. As soon as he touched it, the glass grew very warm for just an instant, then returned to room temperature. He turned it so the glass faced him, and for a very brief moment, it showed his reflection. With a swirl, his reflection disappeared, to be replaced with vague and indistinct shadows with no discernible features.

"What good is a mirror that doesn't reflect anything?" Neville asked, mostly to himself.

"Likely it's some kind of magic mirror, though your uncle didn't explain. Is there an instruction booklet in with the wrapping?" Gran asked.

"No," he replied, after searching through the paper, "but if it's magical, we can find out how it's enchanted."

Grabbing for his wand on the small nightstand, he tapped it on the mirror twice before saying "_Specialis Revelio_!" Gran looked confused for a moment as Neville cast the spell but smiled as he explained what he'd learned.

"Cor! Gran, it's a Foe-Mirror! That's why Great Uncle Algie didn't want you to unwrap it! It has flesh memory, so it attunes to the first person who touches it."

"What does it do?" Gran asked, intrigued.

"Well, the shadows are my enemies, right? The closer they get to me, the more distinct they get in the mirror," Neville explained.

"So right now it's telling you all your enemies are far away, right?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"That's not terribly useful then is it? By the time you see them in the mirror, you should be able to see them in person."

"Unless they're sneaking up behind you," Neville pointed out.

"Hmpf…only mostly useless then."

"Well, maybe. Still it's a very tricky bit of magic," he said.

"As long as you like it, Neville, that's what matters," Gran said with a smile.

Neville set the Foe Glass on his nightstand next to his father's watch and his wand, then looked out this window at the light of the sun disappearing behind the hill on the west side of the garden.

"Was he really angry, Gran?" Neville asked softly.

"Oh, yes. He couldn't stop going on about how rude you'd been; both in what you'd said and how you'd acted. I told him that he really had it coming for years, but he wasn't in a mood to listen. I wouldn't worry about him too much, Neville. When he sobers up, he'll realize what an absolute prat he's been to you. I shouldn't be surprised if the next time you talk to him, he's all apologies and sympathy," Gran explained.

"I was serious, Gran. I really don't want to see him again," Neville said stubbornly.

"And until that changes, you don't have to. For now, I think it best we call it a night. We'll need to take the harvest to Diagon Ally tomorrow, and I think it's high time we collected your supplies for the coming school year, don't you?"

"It's coming up rather quickly, isn't it?" Neville said, unable to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. Gran only smiled at that, turning back towards the bedroom door to leave.

"Good night, Neville, and sweat dreams."


	3. The Dark Lord Ascendant

** Chapter Three: The Dark Lord Ascendant**

_We're OK, you?_

The message from Ginny had Neville very confused when he woke up. Groggily, he tapped the coin with his wand and sent back a simple _Yes, _wondering vaguely what had made Ginny ask. It had been three days since his birthday, and life had been nothing if not comfortably normal. He decided to write Ginny a real letter to ask about it when he was more awake; for now he needed to get ready for his morning chores.

Dressed in his work clothes, he went down the stairs to the smells of Gran fixing bacon and eggs for breakfast, a treat reserved only for Saturdays. His post had already arrived, a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, and a letter in a bright yellow envelope that could only be from Luna. He perused the paper with little interest. The only thing of note was the resignation of Scrimgeor, the current Minister of Magic. Pious Thicknesse, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, told the _Prophet_ that Scrimgeor had been considering retirement even before he'd been promoted to Minister. The Deputy Minister, a man Neville had never heard of, concurred with Thicknesse' assessment and the whole matter seemed bound to be wrapped very shortly.

"They're already scrambling and politicking for his position, the vultures," Gran commented as she served Neville his breakfast, "next thing you know they'll be wanting a place on my dress hat."

Neville couldn't help but burst into a laugh, which was immediately shared. They both tucked in, enjoying the moment of peace as they ate. Neville was half way through his eggs before he picked up Luna's letter and opened it to read.

_Dear Neville,_

_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeor was murdered. Harry is on the run, and the Weasleys are under house arrest._

"What?!" Neville cried out, almost dropping the letter on his breakfast. There was more written, but he was not able to get his mind around the first two lines.

"What is it, Neville?" Gran asked, concerned.

In response, Neville simply handed over the letter.

Looking up from the paper, Gran regarded her grandson incredulously.

"Is this your idea of a joke, or Miss Lovegood's?" she asked, incensed.

"It's no joke, Gran. Every word she wrote I expect is true. Luna doesn't write like that unless it's serious,"

"So you persist in having your laugh at my expense? Neville, this is highly inappropriate of you! Such japes should be beneath a grown man."

"I wouldn't joke about something like this, and neither would Luna. If she says the Ministry has fallen, she's being deadly serious."

A look of momentary confusion passed across Gran's face as she asked, "Where did that come from? Certainly not from this drawing!"

"Drawing?" Neville asked but quickly understood what was happening. "It's not a drawing, Gran; it's hexed. Considering what Luna wrote, I should have already guessed. Only I can read it, apparently."

Gran calmed instantly, mollified that her grandson wasn't trying to play some cruel jest. She handed him back the letter, adding, "Please read it out loud, then, Neville."

_Last night at Bill and Fleur's wedding, we were interrupted in our celebration by a patronus in the form of a lynx that relayed the first two facts in the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. It also told us "they are coming". Panic ensued, with the guests running this way and that trying to escape what was descending on us. I saw Harry run off with Hermione and am very certain they escaped. My father pulled me away before I could see much else, which is why we escaped capture and detention. From what little we saw, a mixture of Ministry officials and Death Eaters had taken many of the guests into custody, which only confirms Mr. Shacklebolt's pronouncement._

_Ginny's dress was lovely, and Harry was in disguise. I don't think it was a very good disguise, since I knew who he was immediately. Still, up until the interruption, I had a splendid time. I had a chat with Ginny, and a lovely time at dinner with Harry, Ron, and Hermione._

_The good news is that Harry got away, and I was bitten by a garden gnome. I haven't developed any new talents yet, but father says it's only a matter of time._

_Luna_

For a moment after he'd read the letter, both Neville and Gran sat in stunned silence. Neither had the slightest inclination to disbelieve the information Luna had provided, at least as far as it involved Scrimgeor and the Ministry, but the last few lines of the letter had Neville's head hurting. He had forgotten how very… Luna…Luna could be. Gran shook off her amazement quicker than Neville could, however.

"I shall need to have a chat with that girl. However, there's work to be done. Neville, I want you to go over every ward and spell we have on our house, reinforce what you can, and add new wards where you can't. Make sure they extend as far out as the main gate, and include the main garden and the rest of the grounds. I will see to it that there are other, more unpleasant surprises for anyone who decides to intrude here without invitation. If what your friend says is correct, we have little time, and even if the rest of England is in peril, I intend to be safe in my own home."

"Yes, ma'am," Neville replied.

It was the work of the next two days to reinforce the magical protections on their home, and between that, tending the garden, and helping Gran to plant several varieties of the more dangerous magical plants around the grounds, Neville barely had time for anything other than working, eating, and sleeping. Under normal circumstances, Gran would never have allowed such things as Venomous Tentacula to be planted in her garden. These types of plants wanted constant care to ensure they did not kill the more useful ones, which doubled Neville's normal work load, but he had learned a few charms in Advanced Herbology that made controlling these monstrous things somewhat easier, particularly if they started from the seed.

When he woke up on Monday to realize he had not showered or changed before flopping into bed the night before, he decided he needed to slow down. His muscles were still aching from the previous day's work. Dire as the situation was, he'd be no use to anyone if he overworked himself. He took the time for a slow shower, stretched his limbs until the aching stopped, and took a moment to clean up his room and place all his soiled laundry in the hamper [1].

He made his way down stairs expecting his Gran to be waiting for him, but instead found a note left on the table.

_Neville,_

_The other Governors have called an emergency meeting. You were still in the shower when the owl arrived. I have no idea how long I will be. See to the garden as much as you can, but pay particular attention to the pit trap with the Devil's Snare. I'll be home as soon as I can._

_Gran_

While this worried Neville, he decided not to dwell on it. He worked in the garden for most of the day, pausing only to eat a quick lunch. Early in the afternoon, just as Neville was starting to do his inspection around the borders of the garden, Gran apparated outside the gate with a pop. She was in her dress robes and wearing her vulture hat as was her habit when meeting the Board of Governors for Hogwarts. She had taken the position at Professor McGonagall's recommendation after Lucius Malfoy had been sacked. At the time, Neville had thought it wise not to tell his friends at school, since it really didn't change much. Gran would never use her position for selfish ends, genuinely taking the job to make sure that the best interests of all the students at Hogwarts were served equally.

She nodded curtly to Neville as she walked in the gate, "Come inside, Neville, I have news."

The anger in her voice told Neville that the news was not good, so he quickly cleaned his tools with a spell, and followed his Gran inside.

"Be a dear and set the kettle on, Neville. I need some tea after the day I've had," Gran said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She had removed her hat and put it in the hall closet as they walked in. Neville filled the tea kettle with water and turned on the stove, then sat down at the table to wait for Gran to catch him up.

"It appears that even Hogwarts is not going to be safe from You-Know-Who. Over my objections, the other Governors have voted to make attendance mandatory. It will be announced this evening."

"That's…unheard of, but I don't see how…" Neville said, confused.

"Think, Neville!" Gran interrupted, "what better way to get the whole country to your way of thinking than holding their children hostage? I had hoped that those who chose to teach their own children would be safe, but apparently even that is to be taken away."

"You really think Volde…"

"NO!" Gran shouted, startling Neville so badly he jumped. "We can't say his name anymore." She said, far more quietly, "I fear it's been made Taboo by the ministry. One of the other Governors mentioned that this ruling was his work, by name, and less than a minute later, our meeting was interrupted by a pair of very disreputable creatures backed up by Ministry officials. They got there despite the protections we had put up, and while they didn't say why they were taking him, we all knew. Saying that name seems to cut through all magical defenses, and summons his servants to you. We can't afford to not be cautious."

For some reason, this news angered Neville more than the mandatory attendance, though he couldn't have said why.

"It will be announced in the evening _Prophet_. It's started, Neville, and from here on, we cannot be too vigilant."

The next morning, Neville's owl brought him his copy of the _Prophet _just as he was sitting down to breakfast. Filling the front page was a huge picture of Harry Potter, and the headline written over it had Neville right back on his feet again:

**WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT**

**THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE **[2]

"That's just wrong!" Neville roared in protest to Gran. "Harry watched as Snape killed Dumbledore, with the other Death Eaters looking on! Who can believe this rubbish?"

"Not many actually will, but I dare say very few will speak out against it," Gran replied in a calm voice. She'd obviously seen the front page as well.

"Well…what are we going to do about it? These…these lies can't just go unanswered!"

"It seems we shall have to find truth from other sources, since it's obvious the _Prophet _can no longer be trusted. As to what we are going to do, we are going to tend the garden."

And so it went, for the next two weeks. Every day, there was something new in the _Prophet _to outrage Neville, from the Muggle-born Registration Act to Harry eventually being named "Undesirable Number One" by the Ministry. The turnabout was so fast it made Neville's head spin, watching as his world quickly unraveled, and the ideal world of Voldemort and his Death Eaters took its place. _The Quibbler_ started running a story in support of Harry, denouncing the current changes, for every lie _The Daily Prophet _published; so Neville renewed his subscription, much to Luna's delight. She wrote telling Neville that the pressure on her father had already begun, but that he was blithely ignoring it. Gran started reading his copy of _The Quibbler_ every day after he'd finished.

What frustrated Neville the most, though, was that no one seemed to be doing the slightest thing about it. Every time he mentioned trying to fight the problem, Gran countermanded him.

"We can't take on You-Know-Who, the Death Eaters, and the Ministry all at once, Neville," Gran would say. "We'd be utterly mad to try."

"We can't be the only people who hate what's happening," Neville countered. "We just need to get all of us organized…"

"That's the problem," Gran countered. "We can't be sure now who we can trust. Anyone we try to get in on an organized resistance could be Imperioused, or worse, replaced. Now is the time to be cautious Neville, but trust me, there will be a time to fight. It just isn't now."

Bowing to Gran's wisdom, albeit grudgingly, Neville held his peace.

Their weekly trips to Diagon Alley to sell the harvest became more and more difficult. The propaganda against Harry increased, until his face was plastered everywhere, offering a reward for his capture. Muggle-born witches and wizards wandered the streets, deprived of their wands, begging anyone who walked by for help. There was only one at first, and one or two more with each weekly trip.

While Gran did her best to ignore what was happening, at least when they were in town, the plight of the Muggle-borns deeply affected Neville. He was afraid of seeing one of his friends among the beggars now that the Governors had announced that no Muggle-borns would be allowed at Hogwarts.

During one such trip, Neville purposely lagged behind Gran as they walked, letting her go into the Apothecary without him. Instead, he leaned against the wall two doors down, next to one of the poor souls begging. She was in sorry shape, looking as if she hadn't eaten in days. Her brown hair was stringy and clumped, and her clothes were in shambles.

"How can I help?" he asked in a low voice.

Luckily for Neville, she took the hint and answered only loud enough for him to hear, "My wand. I just need my wand. They took it at the Ministry. I told them I bought it from Ollivander, they wouldn't listen."

Neville was at a loss for a moment, until he was struck by an idea.

"Meet me at Ollivander's in 10 minutes," he whispered and walked away without looking back. He went inside the Apothecary, where Gran was still haggling with the shopkeeper. He waited for a pause in the negotiations to speak.

"Gran, there's some things I'd like to get for school that we haven't picked up yet. May I go around on my own?"

"Of course, Neville, just be careful. Meet me back at the Leaky in two hours," Gran replied.

Neville was not too thrilled about telling his Gran a half truth, but he figured the less she knew, the safer she'd be if he got caught.

He rushed down the street as fast as he dared, trying to move quickly without drawing attention to himself. He got to Ollivander's with time to spare and began going through the list of charms and spells he knew, trying to anticipate what magical defenses Ollivander may have left in place. He glanced about the street to see if anyone was watching, and laughed lightly when he saw a new shop that hadn't been there the last time he'd come to this part of the Alley.

The shop was painted in blue-gray and white, and a sign outside announced:

**Misty Moon's Exotic Wands**

Changing course almost immediately, Neville walked into the shop across the street, only to find the pungent smell of heavy incense assaulting his nose. It reminded him vaguely of the Divination Tower.

A beaded curtain in the back of the room parted to reveal a woman no older than 30, with raven black hair and deep set green eyes. The light robe she wore was the same color as the shop, blue-gray and white, and it flowed around her as she moved, giving the distinct impression she was walking on air like a ghost.

"Well, young man," she said, the diamond pendant she wore scattering light around the room, "What Mysteries can I unravel for you today? Come for a wand of great power, or perhaps one to help and heal others?

"Ummm…neither," Neville replied, very confused, "Actually, I'm here to…"

"No, no, no, my good sir! You must allow me to guess! Hmmm…you are a very dependable man, someone others can always rely on. Loyal to your friends, and unforgiving of your enemies. You are possessed of a strong sense of justice, hating more than almost anything else that wrong goes unpunished."

"Umm…Yeah, but I…"

"No, no, please, let me finish! You have a strong character and a rare kind of courage. You're a Gryffindor, are you not?"

"Yes…but I need…"

"Almost done, dear boy! Despite all of that, you remain uncertain of yourself. You struggle constantly with your own self-doubt, and rely on your friends to build you back up when you fall victim to it."

"Ummm…yeah, but you see…"

"Brilliant! I have the perfect wand for you, Mr. Longbottom! Please, sit down, have a spot of tea at the table," she said, gesturing grandly at a small table in the corner of the shop. Now that Neville had the chance to look around, it didn't look much like a shop at all, but rather like the sitting room of a small flat. Not knowing what else to do, he headed over to the table to find a tea already set up, the pot already steaming.

"Wait…how'd you know my name?" he asked, still overwhelmed.

"Who could not know, my dear boy? You've been in the paper often!"

"Oh, so that's how you knew all that?" Neville accused, as he sat down.

"Well, some of it, I suppose, but most of it I garnered from your bearing, as well as the aura surrounding you. Your essence simply pulses with earth energy, which told me most of your character."

"Wait…earth energy?" Neville asked, more confused than ever.

"Of course! That's why I can sense how solid of mind and character you are. Oh yes, the wand to suit you will be most unique indeed!"

"Well, I have a wand, so I'm really just…"

"Looking for something better, I should guess," she interrupted. "I'm certain you bought into the idea that 'the wand chooses the wizard', or something along similar lines. While I do agree that the wizard and the wand should suit each other, wands are tools, Mr. Longbottom, and the right tool must be chosen by the wizard, not the other way around! Surely you've found your own wand to be lacking, since you didn't choose it?"

"Well, no, actually, I've actually gotten better since getting a wand of my own," Neville replied.

"Exactly! You took possession of the wand, not the other way around!"

"Look, I don't need a wand. I'm here for…for a friend," Neville explained.

"Oh! Of course! Loyal to your friends, just as I thought! So tell me about this friend!"

"Ummm…well…she's a girl…" Neville said at a loss.

"I see. Tell me more about her! What is she like?"

"She's…poor, which is why I'm buying it for her…"

"Such a kindness! Tell me more, Mr. Longbottom. Is she special to you? Are the pair of you dating?"

"Well, no…no, I'm single, but…"

"How has a nice, stable young man like you not been snatched up by a good girl?"

"Ok, look, I just need a wand that she can use for…for a while. She's going to be in…in dangerous places soon, so she needs something small, something she can hide…"

"Of course!" Misty Moon said, snapping her fingers loudly, "I have the perfect wand! Please, wait here while I fetch it for you!" she exclaimed, getting up and disappearing behind the beaded curtain.

While she was gone, Neville glanced nervously out the shop window, not wanting to miss the girl he was going to such an effort for. Outside, he saw her sitting in front of Ollivander's, looking a little lost. He opened the door to Misty Moon's shop and glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

"Be out in a moment," he said in a loud whisper. She started, looked back at him, but nodded.

By the time he got back to the tea table, Misty Moon was coming out from behind the curtain again, carrying a wand box.

"Yes, yes, this should suit her needs very well. Laurel wood and Thestral Hair, 7 and a quarter inches, very swishy."

"Wait, Thestral hair? I thought the best wands…"

"Could only be made from the so called 'big three'? No, no, Mr. Longbottom, almost any wand wood and magical core can be made into a wand, and this one turned out…rather unique, if I may say so. Look inside!"

Neville opened the box and peered inside, then looked up skeptically at the strange shopkeeper. "Looks just like any other wand to me."

"So it's visible right now?" she asked.

"Ummm…yeah. Are you trying to tell me you can't see it?" Neville asked, still incredulous.

"Oh, yes I can," she said after glancing inside the box. "Strange, it was invisible when I put it in there."

"You're trying to tell me that this wand is sometimes visible and sometimes…" Neville said, trailing off as he watched the wand slowly fade from view. Instinctively, Neville reached in and grasped the place where the wand's handle had been.

"It's still there!" he said in wonder, pulling the invisible wand out of the box. It felt wrong in his hand, but he figured that was because it wasn't meant for him. He placed it carefully back in the box.

"Amazing, isn't it? Ollivander would never have thought to try this combination; I can tell you that much. Working with hair I couldn't see was a real challenge, but it was well worth it, I'm sure you'd agree."

"This is…perfect!" Neville exclaimed.

"Of course it is! It's all about knowing who you are and what you want, Mr. Longbottom. Once you know that, the choice of wand becomes obvious."

"How much?" Neville asked, reaching in to his pocket.

Misty Moon glanced out the window for a brief moment and then looked back at Neville. Her light, airy expression flickered for a moment, but righted itself almost immediately.

"Finding the person who matches this wand has been trying, Mr. Longbottom. So far, no one who has come in to my shop has had the right character. Why don't we call this a gift? Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor taking it off my hands."

"I couldn't do that! Something this unique, I can't let you just give it away."

"I insist, sir. I will not take a single sickle for it. Take it with my blessing," she said, pulling him into a tight hug. The familiarity made Neville decidedly uncomfortable until he heard her voice in an urgent whisper next to his ear, "Tell your friend to be oh so very careful, Neville. She should leave England as soon as she can."

She kissed his cheek, then pulled away, smiling broadly and gesturing grandly towards the door, "Off with you now, gallant hero! Take your prize to your lady fair and know that my thoughts go with you in your continued journey."

"I…I can't thank you enough, Miss Moon," Neville stammered, at a loss for more to say.

Misty Moon just smiled and waved him towards the front door as she glided gracefully to the back of the shop and disappeared again behind the curtain. Taking the hint, Neville hurried out of the shop and across the street. The woman sat cross-legged on the ground in front of Ollivander's shop, waiting for Neville to return. He leaned up against the wall just as he had before, and handed the box down to her without looking.

"You should leave England, ma'am. It won't be safe for you until the war is over," Neville said quietly.

"What's your name?" she asked, taking the wand box and looking up at him in gratitude.

"Neville," he replied hesitantly, "now please, go. You're in terrible danger until you leave."

"And what of your own danger, Mr. Longbottom," a familiar voice said, startling both Neville and the woman he was trying to help. "It seems to me that talking to people like that puts you in far more danger than it does her."

A tall, lanky man dressed in prim black robes had just stepped out of the shop next to Ollivaders. He was looking at the pair of them with an expression of utmost scorn. His red hair was the only truly remarkable feature about him.

"Percy," Neville pleaded, "Please, I can explain..."

* * *

-Footnotes-

1 Lord Voldemort wishes to add, "Muggles have their place, Mudbloods have their place, AND SO DO YOUR CLOTHES!"

2 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: pg. 207


	4. Perfectly Percy

**Chapter Four: Perfectly Percy**

"I'm sure you can," Percy replied haughtily. "Regardless, rules are rules." Percy looked back at the girl Neville had just given the wand box to and scowled. "Take your things and go, before I change my mind," he nearly growled.

Not needing to be told twice, the girl curled her arms around the box and ran into the shadows of a nearby alley. Neville vaguely wondered if he'd ever see her again, but at the moment he had bigger worries.

"Come with me, Longbottom," Percy said, his eyes refocusing on Neville after watching the girl disappear. Reluctantly, Neville followed Percy through Diagon Alley, paying close attention to his surroundings. His mind was running through charms and defenses, preparing to fight Percy if he had to. He didn't relish the idea of violence, but he believed it would be better for Gran if he ran than if he was sent to Azkaban.

Percy led Neville all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron. There were always others in sight, and Neville didn't feel comfortable starting a fight with bystanders around. Resounding through his head were Gran's warnings of not knowing who to trust and the stories Ron had told of what a prat Percy had become since leaving Hogwarts. As Percy led the way through the Leaky to an upstairs room, Neville moved his hand closer to his wand, paying attention to who was wandering the upstairs hall. Percy led him to a room on the second floor and unlocked it with a key from his pocket.

Seizing his chance, Neville pulled his wand as Percy opened the door. There was no one else in the hall. Now would likely be his only chance. Percy turned to see Neville's cherry wood wand pointed right at his nose.

"Inside, quickly," Neville instructed. Percy raised his hands in surrender and backed into the room. Neville followed and shut the door behind him with his foot, never taking his eyes off Percy.

"What are you doing, Neville?" Percy asked.

"I…I don't know yet," Neville replied hesitantly. He hadn't really planned ahead, other than running once he had incapacitated Percy.

"Let me give you some advice, then. It wasn't very bright to be so open. I think you should be more secretive if you don't want to get caught," Percy replied, no hint of the former malice remaining in his tone.

"I intend to!" Neville exclaimed. "I'm sick to death of doing nothing to fight this…this evil, and you're not going to stop me, Percy!"

"I'm not trying to stop you. I just think you should be more subtle. Almost anyone but me would have turned you in, and you'd be in Azkaban by now."

"I'm not going to…" Neville began, his voice rising, when all at once what Percy had been saying sank in. "So, wait, you're not turning me in?"

"Of course not! In fact, I find what you did rather noble. It's your methods that need work. You'll have to be more careful if you don't want to get caught. Why would you think I'd turn you in?"

"Because you're with the Ministry," Neville said matter-of-factly.

"The Ministry isn't your enemy, Neville," Percy replied.

"Of course, it is!" Neville exclaimed, getting a firmer grip on his wand.

"Don't let Harry's point of view cloud yours. Just because he's had a bad experience doesn't mean everyone at the Ministry is like Umbridge or…or Crouch."

"How can you say that when the Ministry is nothing more than…than a sham!"

"Now see here! The Ministry may not be perfect, but it's definitely not a sham! We help people; we keep the peace!"

"What about that girl, Percy? How can you say the Ministry is helping her?"

"I don't…I don't necessarily agree with all the current policies. What you have to understand is we're in a… a transitional period…things will settle out soon."

"Right into You-Know-Who's hands, you mean!" Neville retorted.

"Now don't get hysterical, Neville…"

"I'm not—Wait…wait. Didn't your family tell you?" Neville asked, with dawning realization.

"Ummm…we're not really talking."

"Percy, the Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeor was murdered. Blimey, your own family is under house arrest. How could you not know? Weren't you at the wedding?"

"No…I wasn't. And surely…surely you're mistaken. I would have noticed…"

"Look around! Muggle-born registration? Harry made into a criminal? Mandatory attendance? What part of that _doesn't_ scream 'the Death Eaters are in control'? Merlin, Percy, you work in the Minister's office!"

Percy winced as if he'd been hit. "I think…" he started, but hesitated as if unsure what to say next.

"Talk to your family. They know what's happening."

"I can't…if you're right…"

"Why not? Family is family, even if you don't agree with them."

Percy seemed to recover and gathered his air of superiority around himself again. "I think it's time you left, Neville."

"Look, Percy…" Neville began.

"Just go!" Percy interrupted hotly. "I need…I need to think. I'm not turning you in. Just be more careful."

Neville lowered his wand and backed towards the door. "Just talk to them, Percy. What harm can it do?"

"GO!" Percy yelled.

Neville opened the door and slipped out, leaving Percy to himself.


	5. The Train to Hogwarts

**Chapter Five: The Train to Hogwarts**

Three days before Neville was due to go back to Hogwarts, Gran had another meeting with the Board of Governors. This time she came home in an absolutely furious mood. She stalked through the gate without a word to Neville and went straight inside the house. Knowing better than to get in her way, Neville finished his chores, making sure the Tentacula plants hadn't over grown. With the mood Gran was in he was a little scared to go in, but he knew it couldn't be avoided.

When he got inside, Gran already had tea and was seated at the table fuming. Neville got a cup from the cupboard and poured some for himself. They sat in silence for several minutes, Gran cautiously sipping her tea, and Neville respecting her need for quiet.

"I have been sacked," Gran said calmly and quietly. Neville knew Gran was at her most dangerous when she used this tone. "My opposition to the Board on what they are doing to the school was too much, and they voted me out, unanimously."

"What happened?" Neville asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

"I have been sworn to secrecy, but I think I no longer care. The Board has decided to install Severus Snape as headmaster. He will be selecting new teachers for Defense and Muggle Studies. In a momentary flash of brilliance, the Board has decided not to announce these changes until the First, well after the children are on their way to the school."

"Bloody hell!" Neville exclaimed.

"It gets worse."

* * *

Neville woke up late on September First and found himself in a rush to get everything set for the trip. Fortunately, all his school gear and books were already packed in his trunk. All that remained was to find Trevor.

It was a yearly ritual for the pair. No matter what they did to contain him, Trevor always managed to escape just before Neville flooed to Diagon Alley. Neville didn't want to summon him. The last time he'd had that brilliant idea Trevor had arrived with a broken leg. Gran and he searched the house high and low and had almost given up on finding him in time, when Gran came downstairs from the attic, carrying a very dusty and dry toad. Neville poured some water over his skin to make sure he was hydrated then quickly shoved Trevor into his cage. He and Gran then lugged his trunk to the fireplace.

"Don't do anything until you get to the school, Neville. More than likely you're going to see things at the platform that will make you quite angry, but your goal is to get to Hogwarts. Once you get there, talk to Professor McGonagall as soon as you can," Gran instructed.

"Yes, Gran," Neville said politely. They had already been over this several times, but it was better to indulge her.

"Send me an owl as often as you can but make sure you use that ingenious charm Miss Lovegood used."

"Yes, Gran."

Softening, Gran placed a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Be strong, Neville, but be safe. Do what you can to protect the students, and…and come back home in one piece."

"I'm not going to war, Gran. I'll be fine."

"Yes, you are; it's just of a different type," Gran said in almost a whisper. She braced herself, and her face hardened. "Off you go, then. You don't want to miss the train."

He nodded and took a handful of powder from the jar on the mantelpiece. He stepped into the fireplace with his trunk and said very clearly, "Platform Nine and Three Quarters!" as he threw the powder at his feet.

"Wai…" Gran said, but it was too late. Already, Neville was spinning through the floo network. He'd never gone directly to the platform before. Normally he and Gran walked from Diagon Alley to the train. He had no reason to go there, and since Gran wasn't coming with him, he thought it would be better just to go to the platform directly. He was a man this year, after all.

It took him longer than he would have thought, as there seemed to be a long pause before he came out of the fireplace. A Ministry official dressed in blue robes was waving at him urgently, which Neville found curious. He started to ask the official what was going on, but before a single word got out of his mouth, he was hit from behind by someone coming through with their own trunk.

The resulting wreck flung Neville's trunk half way across the platform. Neville and whoever had run into him tumbled together in a tangle of limbs and robes. When they came to a stop Neville was flat on his back, and the other student was on top of him.

"I'm so sorry," a small girlish voice said, "Are you alright?"

The person on top of Neville was a girl no older than 12, with a mass of dark brown hair that hung straight down to her shoulders. Her green eyes peered at Neville with concern.

"I'm fine, I've had worse" he said, smiling lightly.

As they started untangling themselves, a drawling voice came from the gathered crowd, "Right here on the platform, Longbottom?"

Neville looked towards the speaker, only to find the grey, cold eyes of Draco Malfoy peering back at him, looking amused. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him on either side, both of them snickering.

"Finally got yourself a girlfriend, eh?" Crabbe added, "Long as you've been without one, it's no wonder you couldn't wait for a room." Goyle started laughing outright at this comment, and Draco turned his head to say something to Crabbe.

"What are _you_ doing here? You should be in Azkaban!" the young girl nearly shouted, having managed to stand up and point an accusing finger at Draco. Neville wanted nothing more than to slip away and disappear at this point, but the gathering crowd of onlookers made that impossible, so instead he started getting up.

"Mind your mouth, girly…" Crabbe growled, reaching in his robes, but was stopped by Draco holding up his hand.

"You're a disgrace, Longbottom," Draco said coldly, "pick yourself up and start acting like a pureblood for once."

Neville had managed to get his feet under him by this point, and locked eyes with Draco. Draco rolled his shoulders back uncaringly, turned and walked towards the train. Not knowing what else to do, Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.

"Why aren't you arresting him?" The girl was asking of the Ministry official, who was looking quite confused. The Ministry official was trying to stammer something back. Neville took the opportunity to quietly grab his trunk and slip away while the crowd was staring at the girl. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention.

He found a place in the storage compartments to put his trunk then walked to the nearest stairs onto the train. A very young looking boy was in front of him, being held up by a second Ministry official.

"I'm very sorry, but you cannot board the train," the official said, not sounding sorry in the least.

"But I got this letter here, you see?" the boy said, holding up a sheet of Hogwarts stationary. "It says I need to get on the train at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. It took me forever to figure out how to get here."

"Those letters were sent out in error. The regulations are clear; you must have a close wizarding relative to go to Hogwarts."

"But I told you, I was adopted. I've no idea who my parents are, so…so one of them could be a wizard. Isn't there a way to check?"

"I'm very sorry, but no," the official said with finality, gesturing to another Ministry official who was standing nearby. The other official moved forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, startling him. "Now, if you would please go with this gentleman, so we can investigate why the letter was sent to you, we can clear up this matter quickly."

"Oh…ok, I'll go. We can get this sorted, I hope…" the boy naively replied.

Neville balled his fist as the conversation proceeded from bad to worse, literally biting his tongue to keep himself from shouting. As the boy was taken away, Neville stepped up to the first official to take his turn to board the train. There were similar lines at each entry point.

"Name?" the official asked arrogantly.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville replied, doing his best to keep the anger from his voice.

The official looked at a clipboard in his hand and tapped it with his wand. "Son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, yes, you're authorized. Please proceed quickly aboard," the official said, standing aside to let Neville by.

"How do you live with it?" Neville asked without thinking, staring angrily at the official.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Longbottom. Please, move along," the official replied, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

Neville regained his composure, reminding himself that his goal was to get to Hogwarts without incident. He walked by the Ministry official in a huff and headed in to find Luna and Ginny.

The mood on the train was very different than it had been in previous years. For one, thing, it was a lot less crowded than normal, so Neville found it rather easy to navigate through the hallways between the cabins. He was looking in windows as he passed but couldn't seem to find his friends. Just as he was about to reach the front of the train, a strong hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. A wizard standing just a little shorter than Neville was peering at him quizzically. Neville didn't recognize him but refused to show just how startled he was.

"Neville Longbottom, right?" the man asked in a wheezy voice. He smiled a lopsided grin as he leered upwards. He extended his hand for a handshake as he said, "Name's Amycus Carrow. I'll be the new Defense teacher at Hogwarts, so please call me Professor. I was wondering if I could have a word?"

Neville folded his arms across his chest, and simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Amycus was being nice enough, but something about him felt very off to Neville. He couldn't help remembering that this was likely Voldemort's pick.

"In private?" Amycus wheezed.

"I don't think so," Neville said, standing his ground. "I have nothing to hide."

"Is there a problem, Amycus?" a female voice said. Out of one of the compartments, a slightly taller witch stepped up next to Amycus. The family resemblance was unmistakable to Neville.

"He…he said no. He's not supposed to say no, is he?" Amycus asked, clearly confused.

"Is that true? Did you tell Professor Amycus no?" Alecto asked, her voice brimming with anticipation.

Neville shrugged. "I don't know either of you, so I prefer anything you have to say be out in public. I'm not stupid, you know."

By this point, several of the compartment doors had opened, and several heads were peering tentatively at the scene.

"That remains to be seen, I think," Alecto replied. "But have it your way then. We know that you were close with Undesirable Number One. My brother and I were wondering if you'd heard anything from him, or seen him today?"

Neville nearly laughed but held it back. He couldn't hold back a grin. "Do you really think Harry would be stupid enough to show up here? What, did you expect him to show up on the platform, trunk and all, ready to go back to school?"

"That's not what we asked, Mr. Longbottom," Amycus replied, "We asked if you'd seen him or had contact from him. You can tell us, or we can find out when we get to Hogwarts."

The way he spoke made a chill go up Neville's spine, and the first finger of fear poked his heart.

"He's not here. He's not that stupid. I haven't seen or heard from him since the end of term."

"NEVILLE," a voice almost shouted, as a flash of red hair appeared beside him. Ginny took his arm by the elbow and gripped it tightly. It was only then that Neville realized he'd been reaching for his wand. "So glad I found you! Luna and I have been looking everywhere! You HAVE to tell me how your summer went!"

She spoke in a light tone, but Neville could hear the undertone of warning directed at him. An odd tingle was traveling up and down his arm, but he dismissed it as having to do with how tightly Ginny was grabbing him. He turned his head to look at her and saw that Luna had also come up behind him. She smiled lightly and gave him a small wave.

"Are we done?" Neville asked curtly, looking back at Alecto.

"For now," she replied, eyes narrowing, "but we may have more questions later."

"I'm sure," Neville replied and allowed Ginny to pull him into one of the compartments, followed closely by Luna. As soon as Luna had closed the door, Ginny pulled Neville into a tight hug, which he gladly returned.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Nev. I was so worried! What in blazes were you thinking? Just 'yes'? Really? I was worried sick for you and your Gran when that's all I got from you! Why didn't you write? What's been happening?"

"Whoa, Gin! One thing at a time, ok?" Neville said through his wide smile. For the first time in over a month, he felt safe and at home. His sense of home was very different when he was with Gran.

"Right, right," Ginny replied, releasing him from the embrace and taking a deep breath. "First, your Gran?"

"Fine," Neville replied. "Safe as we could make her. Our house is pretty much a fortress now."

"You?" Ginny asked.

"Fine, but shaken." Neville replied.

"Too busy?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, forgot. Lots to tell you two, though."

"Like?"

"Snape."

"He's…you're not serious! Bloody hell, Nev, you should have written!"

"House arrest. Luna…"

"Right, she was there. Harry?"

"I was telling the truth. Not a word."

"Glad you got my letter," Luna broke in, "I was afraid it wouldn't get through."

"Thanks for telling us, Luna. Gran and I wouldn't have known anything otherwise." Neville replied. "Gran was really impressed with the hex, too."

Luna smiled, then sat down on the bench. Ginny followed suit, and Neville sat across from them.

"With Snape as the headmaster, we're in trouble," Ginny began. "We are planning on doing something, right?"

"Shall I?" Neville asked, looking at Luna. Luna nodded, and the pair proceeded to ward the compartment so no one could overhear them. Ginny sat bouncing her legs for a moment, then stood up and walked to the window, then sat back down and started bouncing her legs again. By the time they finished, Ginny was sitting on the edge of the bench, looking like she might explode.

"It's safe now," Neville said, taking his own seat as Luna did.

"So what are we going to _do_?" Ginny asked as if she'd been holding her breath.

"First off, we need to protect the other students," Neville said. "Gran thinks they're likely to be used as hostages against their parents."

"That's horrid!" Ginny exclaimed. "I can't say I'm surprised, though. They used me to keep Dad in line while I was trapped at home."

"I'm sorry, Gin," Neville sympathized, "I wish…"

"It's ok. I'm here now, and we only have to worry about Snivellus," Ginny said.

"Who?" Neville and Luna asked at the same time.

"Sirius told me he used to call Snape that back when they were in school. He was an Order member, so I never used it before, but he's a stinking traitor and murderer now, so I don't rightly care. Oh! We could get the word out to everyone about his school name!"

"No, let's not do that," Luna said serenely.

"Come on, Luna! You have to admit it'd be bloody brilliant to see how he reacts when half the school is calling him Snivellus, and the other half whispers it when he's not there. His head would explode!"

"Ginny, how would you feel if I became a teacher and all the students started calling me Loony again because it was my nickname in school?" Luna asked airily.

"I'd…I'd kill them all!" Ginny replied.

"So would Snape," Luna replied.

"I… oh. Right, then, bad idea," Ginny said, slumping like a sail losing the wind.

"It's not just Snape we need to worry about," Neville interjected. "Those Carrows are bad news too. We should talk to our own Heads of Houses, see if they can help."

"Probably won't, though. They didn't do anything about Umbridge, did they?" Ginny said.

"Still worth a try, right?" said Neville.

"Maybe, but like as not we're on our own," Luna said.

"Do you know if the Carrows are Death Eaters?" Neville asked Ginny.

"I think so, but I'm not sure. It'd make sense if they were, though." Ginny answered.

"Probably are," Neville said, nodding. "You-Know-Who would want Snape to have backup."

"So we've got three Death Eaters at the school in official positions, against the three of us," Ginny said, slumping even further. "We're going to need an army."

"Well, don't we have one?" Luna asked, "I still have my coin, so…"

"Brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed, pulling Luna into a quick hug before leaping to her feet. "We can get the DA back together, only this time, instead of just practicing, we can actually take the fight to them!"

"I don't think fight is the right word," Neville said hesitantly. "We're going to have to be careful. We want to help more than anything else, not get more people into trouble."

"We're all in trouble anyway with those three at the school. With the DA, we can toss them before the month is out!" Ginny replied.

"We shouldn't think like that," Luna said. "That's going to get more people hurt than helped. I think we'd need to be…a resistance movement. Something underground, so we can protect as many people as we can."

"That's…actually, that's even better! We wouldn't even have to go around in masks or anything!"

"We all know each other anyway, so no point in that," Neville added. "We just have to hold out until Harry comes anyway."

The energy suddenly drained out of the room as both Ginny and Luna looked at Neville with unreadable looks.

"He is coming, right?" Neville asked.

"I…I don't think so. He, my brother, and Hermione have some other plans. They…none of them said anything about coming back to school. Harry definitely said he won't be coming." Ginny said in a subdued tone while sitting back down.

"It wouldn't be smart for him to come, Neville. He'd be caught and put in Azkaban," Luna said quietly.

"But…" Neville began, but shook it off. There was no place for doubt here, not if they were going to act. He didn't quite believe his best friends, but there was no point in arguing about it. "Right, it's just us then. So that's the plan? Get the DA back together and start a resistance movement?"

Luna and Ginny both nodded.

"That's sorted then. We'll need to wait for now. If we're going to be underground, we need to be even more careful than we were last time. Can't have the lot of us gathered in here conspiring, right?" Neville said with a smile.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Ginny said, suddenly excited again. She stood back up, and reached into one of the overhead compartments. Pulling down a package wrapped in bright red paper, she handed it to Neville.

"I know it's late, but happy birthday, Nev! I couldn't send it, but I did tell you I'd give it to you when I saw you." Ginny said.

"Right! I…well, thank you, Gin!"

"Go on then, open it!" Ginny replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Inside the wrapping paper was a long cedar box with a latch on the front. Neville opened it to find a selection of seed packets, ranging from simple herbs to magical herbs of various sorts. As he went through them, Neville noted that they all were particularly suited to being raised indoors.

"Wow, Gin! So I can…"

"Yeah, I figured…" Ginny replied.

"Right! Brilliant, Gin! Thank you!" Neville said gratefully.

"I got Harry a gift, but I couldn't give it to him," Luna interjected.

Ginny turned and smiled at Luna then sat down.

"What was it?" Ginny asked.

"A compass. Normally they point to magnetic north, but I enchanted it so it would always point home. Well, not any home, but his home, wherever he believes that is. I imagine it'd point to the Burrow or Hogwarts." Luna replied as she gazed distantly out the window.

"He'd have loved it. I couldn't think of anything to get him, so I just kissed him." Ginny said, taking Luna's hand. "We all miss him. I'm sure he's going to be fine."

"Of course, he's Harry," Luna said with absolute certainly. "I just wish I could have given it to him before the attack."

"You're right, of course," Ginny said, some of Luna's certainty seeping into her voice.

Neville felt very awkward about this exchange, though he wasn't certain why. He flipped through his seed packets remembering how each one was cared for, until the room settled into a comfortable silence


	6. The Sorting Hat's Last Song

**Chapter Six: The Sorting Hat's Last Song**

Neville, Luna, and Ginny wiled away the time catching each other up on what had been happening over the summer. Ginny complained about being cooped up and unable to practice Quidditch while she was under house arrest. Luna told them that her father didn't believe a word of what was being printed in the _Prophet_ and planned to cut back on Snorkack updates to print the truth. Neville didn't have much to add, since by comparison his life at home was pretty boring. If he was honest with himself he very much preferred it that way.

What upset Neville most in the news Ginny shared was the death of Mad-Eye Moody. Even though Neville had never met the man, he still remembered the kindness the fake Moody had showed him, and he liked to believe that the real Moody would have done the same.

Soon enough, the train began slowing. They all three got into their school robes, then Ginny had to leave to patrol the halls as part of her duties as sixth year prefect. This left Luna and Neville alone. Neither of them felt the need to keep up a conversation, so Luna started reading the latest copy of the Quibbler, and Neville went back to his seeds. The space between them was comforting. The fact that he and Luna could be as comfortable with each other in silence as in talking was deeply satisfying to Neville.

Ginny rejoined them as the train came to a final stop. They found their trunks together, and headed off the platform towards the waiting carriages, when something caught Neville's ear.

"First years with me, please! All first years, please come over here!" Alecto's voice carried over the crowd. Before Neville could process anything, Ginny had already changed course, making straight for Alecto, pulling her trunk behind her. Neville spared a quick glance to Luna, and silently they followed suit.

"Where's Hagrid?" Ginny asked insistently, looking at Alecto furiously. Neville and Luna came up behind her, taking the left and right flank.

"I'm sorry, who?" Alecto asked, feigning confusion.

"Professor Rubius Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and grounds at Hogwarts, Professor for Care of Magical Creature," Neville responded incredulously. "He always escorts the first years in. He did for me."

"Oh, you mean the half-giant," Alecto replied derisively. "Oh, no, we can't have our young children's first experience at Hogwarts be a half-breed taking them in. I am certain the children will be grateful for not having to deal with that brute. I'll be taking that duty from now on."

Luna was faster than Neville and happened to be on Ginny's right side. Luna grabbed Ginny's arm before she could go for her wand and started to pull her away. Neville stepped forward, ready to get between Ginny and Alecto if he had to.

"He's not a brute!" Ginny yelled. "He's the kindest, most gentle hearted man I know. No one is better for a first year to meet than him! Instead, they have to deal with a…"

"…fellow Hogwarts Professor, who has every right to escort them in," Luna interjected, trying to pull Ginny away. Neville placed himself between Ginny and Alecto, keeping an eye on both. Alecto simply looked amused.

"Your education seems to be sadly lacking, Miss Weasley, but that is why my brother and I are here. I'll forgive this outburst for now, since I know you don't know any better," Alecto replied with false gentility. Ginny pulled her arm from Luna's grip, gave Alecto her angriest look, then turned and stalked away in a huff. Luna followed after a quick glace to Neville, who nodded at her. Neville knew Luna would look after Ginny.

As he was about to leave, Alecto caught his sleeve.

"You and Miss Lovegood have more sense than your friend. For her sake, I hope you can keep her in line. It would be a shame if we had to put her in detention before the year even starts."

Neville simply stared at Alecto for a moment, thinking that she'd have to put him in detention too, though he had the sense not to say it. He glanced down at his sleeve waiting for Alecto to release it. When she did, he followed after his friends.

He walked to the carriages, pausing to greet Tenebrous on the way. The huge Thestral greeted him warmly, though some of the newer students stared at him openly. Neville assumed it was because they couldn't see the huge bat-winged horse he was petting.

He saw Luna and Ginny standing next to one of the carriages further up and started to head towards them. They seemed to be deep in conversation. Luna looked like she was trying to calm Ginny down. He hadn't taken three steps when he heard someone behind him.

"What were you doing?" the small girlish voice asked. He turned around to see the 12 year old girl who'd knocked him over on the platform staring up at him, curiosity and excitement obvious in her eyes.

"Petting the Thestral pulling this carriage" Neville said, a little confused by her boldness.

"There's nothing in front of the carriage," she said with absolute certainty. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

"Oh, no, of course you can't see it. See, only someone who's seen…" Neville began, but was interrupted by the carriages starting to move. "Tell you later, need to catch up," he said quickly and ran to the carriage where his friends had already gotten inside.

"Ok, later then…" he heard trailing off behind him in a disappointed voice.

Neville got to the carriage and hopped on just before it started moving too fast for him to catch it. He swung into the compartment less than gracefully. Fortunately Ginny's reactions were well honed, and she caught his arm before he tumbled in.

"What kept you?" she asked in a light tone.

"Girl," Neville replied breathlessly.

"_Girl_? You've been holding out on me! When did this start?" Ginny asked with increasing volume.

"On the platform, before I got on the train. She bumped into me, and…" Neville replied.

"So you've only known this girl a few hours? Where's your head?" Ginny interrupted. "Tell me you at least know her name."

"Well, no, it hasn't come up…" Neville replied with increasing confusion.

"Merlin, Neville! Is she at least cute?"

"I…I guess so. Wait, why do you ask?" Neville asked, now thoroughly confused.

"You guess so? Nev…wait, I think we'd better start this over. Who is this girl?" Ginny asked, comprehension dawning.

Neville told Ginny and Luna the whole story at this point, being very careful to leave nothing out. He blushed crimson when he told them about Draco and Crabbe's jokes.

"Daddy and I tried to use the floo my first year. It turned out much the same. It's always over-booked and accidents happen a lot," Luna explained when Neville finished. "We've always gone to Diagon Alley ever since."

"Remind me to hex Malfoy into the ground the next time I see him," Ginny said angrily. "That was more than wrong; it was sick."

"Yeah," Neville agreed.

"We can't just hex anyone who annoys us, Ginny," Luna said. "If we're going to be an underground movement, we need to be cleverer than that."

Ginny thought only a moment before responding, "I suppose outsmarting and humiliating him will be just as good as hexing him."

"Just outsmarting him is better. That's going to be humiliating enough to someone like Draco," Luna said serenely.

"Alright, alright. I get it. We have to lay low and be smart," Ginny said sulkily.

"That doesn't mean doing nothing, Gin," Neville consoled her.

"True enough," Ginny replied with a smile.

In short order the carriages pulled up to the school, which despite everything looked very much the same. There were Ministry guards at the large front doors, so it was obvious to Neville that security had been increased.

Several of the students coming from the carriages stopped to openly stare at the school in awe. Neville assumed they were students who hadn't had to come here before but were too old to be first years. He caught the girl who'd asked him about the Thestrals staring at him. She quickly dropped her gaze before disappearing into the throng of students. The front gates opened. The Ministry guards stood aside, and they all streamed in. In the front of the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall was standing waiting with the first years. Neville smiled to see that even a Death Eater takeover of the school couldn't remove his Head of House from where she was supposed to be.

The older students streamed in behind the first years, then Professor McGonagall spoke.

"Wait a moment, please, all of you," she said in a voice that allowed no disobedience. Everyone stopped and turned their attention to her.

"Most of you are old hands here at Hogwarts. Due to new regulations, several of you are here for the first time along with our first year students. It is all those fresh faces that I am addressing."

Professor McGonagall then gave them the same speech, almost word for word, which she had given to the first years when Neville had first come to Hogwarts.

When the doors to the Great Hall opened the students started filing in, Neville along with them. Before he got inside, Professor McGonagall walked up to him.

"A word in private before you go in, Mr. Longbottom?" she asked firmly. She then led the way towards a corner of the front hall well away from the throng of students. Neville had time to exchange an apologetic glance with Ginny and Luna. He then followed along after the Professor.

"It's good to see you well, Mr. Longbottom. We have little time, so I will come straight to the point. It appears that Mr. Weasley will not be attending school this year due to a spattergoit infection. This leaves us without a seventh year boys' prefect. Would you do me the favor of taking the position?" she asked.

"Me…prefect?" Neville stammered, utterly in shock.

"I cannot think of anyone more suited to the task. Will you do it?" she asked again, more insistently.

"Of course! I'd be honored!" Neville replied. Professor McGonagall smiled and pulled a prefect's badge from a pocket of her robes. She handed it to Neville, who pinned it on.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get inside to conduct the Sorting," she said, turning away.

"Wait," Neville said, and she turned to look at him expectantly. "What about the Carrows? What about Snape?"

"What about them?" McGonagall said in a forced neutral tone.

"What can we do? I mean, with Snape as Headmaster."

"How did you…Augusta, of course. What is it you're asking of me?"

"I…I don't know. We have to do something."

"_I_ am going to do absolutely nothing about them. Do you understand, Mr. Longbottom?"

"I suppose so," Neville said, crestfallen.

"We shall see. You have a House table to get to, and I have a Sorting Ceremony to conduct," she said with finality.

McGonagall turned and walked into the Great Hall, leaving Neville feeling very confused and alone.

Fortunately there were still students filtering in to the Great Hall at this point, so he didn't draw any attention to himself as he went to his own table. Ginny was already seated, but as he walked up, she openly stared at him.

"She made you prefect?" Ginny asked when he sat beside her.

"I was just as surprised as you are," Neville replied.

"I'm not surprised," Ginny said, smiling and giving him a hug.

Several others said their congratulations as well. As Neville looked around and saw who was missing, sadness struck him. He missed his muggle born friends.

Silence overtook the hall as Professor McGonagall placed a four legged stool in front of the new students, and placed the Sorting Hat on top of it. Several of the new students gasped in wonder when the hat split and started singing.

_The Founders Four were best of friends_

_When Hogwarts School was started._

_Though they were all quite different_

_They thought never to be parted._

_Brave Gryffindor, Sly Slytherin,_

_What fun they'd have together!_

_With magic might and cunning sure_

_No storm could not be weathered._

_True Hufflepuff, Wise Ravenclaw,_

_Like sisters through and through!_

_With clever plans and steadfast work_

_No problem stumped these two._

_When threats from outside castle walls_

_Came to our sturdy doors,_

_Always they were halted_

_By the solidarity of Founders Four._

_But threats without are easy;_

_Seen and thwarted every time._

_The strife within, between the Four_

_Is the tale of this year's rhyme._

_Sly Slytherin insisted_

_That those not purely born_

_Were knaves and scoundrels to a man,_

_Deserving only scorn._

"_They are a threat to magic folk."_

_Sly Slytherin expounded,_

"_They torture, maim, and burn us_

_Since before this school was founded."_

"_They are no threat, they have no power,"_

_Wise Ravenclaw retorted._

"_Since we've been here, our safety's sure!_

_Our wards are never thwarted."_

"_That's why we'll always beat them_

_If they come here seeking war._

_They cannot match our daring,"_

_Says Brave Founder Gryffindor_

_True Hufflepuff maintained her peace_

_And spoke not a single word._

_She walked out and left them wondering_

_Why she would not be heard._

_She walked down to the Dungeons_

_To where her students denned_

_And told them all how special_

_Each one to her had been._

_Back up to the table_

_Where three friends still were plating._

"_I shall be leaving," she softly said,_

"_Until you three stop hating."_

"_My father was no wizard._

_A braver, truer man_

_You'll never meet in all your lives_

_Though he has no wand at hand."_

"_My mother was no witch._

_She taught me to be true._

_Her wit and grace would be the envy_

_Of each one of you."_

_Wise Ravenclaw was silenced_

_Brave Gryffindor was pained_

_Only Sly Old Slytherin_

_Felt he must explain_

"_I never knew your history._

_I thought your blood was pure._

_To have you as my colleague_

_Is not to be endured."_

_His wand was fast and certain,_

_The spell flew straight and sure,_

_But the curse was countered_

_By Brave Gryffindor._

_Wise Ravenclaw then took her place_

_By Founder Hufflepuff._

_Sly Slytherin knew he was outmatched_

_And walked out in a huff._

_That's how the fighting started._

_Strong friendships now were ended._

_A tale sad, truth to be told._

_Four hearts broken, rended._

_But why did Sly Old Slytherin_

_Allow his hate to grow?_

_Have you not guessed, dear children?_

_You should already know._

_His fear is at the center_

_Of the fractured Founders Four._

_So be mindful, those who teach you hate_

_Are fearful to the core._

_And now you must be sorted_

_New friendships to explore_

_In House Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw,_

_Slytherin or Gryffindor._

For a moment, the Great Hall was quiet. Ginny leapt to her feet and started applauding, startling some of the other students out of their daze. Neville followed her lead almost instantly as did Hagrid at the High Table. Malfoy had started chatting up his Slytherin cohorts halfway through the song and looked at the pair of them with disdain. Parvati stayed seated. She was clapping halfheartedly, staring at the front of the hall with an anxious expression. Seamus, sitting next to her, sunk into his seat. A few other students had joined Ginny in her standing ovation, but they were few and far between. Several besides Parvati were applauding in their seats, Padma among them. Most of the new students seemed to be confused. McGonagall had her head bowed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, shaking as if she were laughing. The Carrows, who Neville noticed for the first time at the High Table, were on their feet and seemed poised to leap over it to get at the hat.

Professor Snape, dressed in his customary black robes, stood up in front of the Headmaster's chair. He spared a glance at the Carrows, stopping them in their tracks. They slunk back to their chairs looking very unhappy

"These songs get worse every year," he said sardonically, garnering a nervous laugh from several students.

"Everyone's a critic," the Hat muttered loudly enough for the whole Hall to hear.

"Professor McGonagall, would you please continue the ceremony?" Snape said almost cordially, ignoring the Hat. McGonagall looked back at Snape with what could only be described as forced indifference, then shrugged and pulled a scroll from her robes as everyone sat down.

"As I call your name, please step forward to be sorted into your houses," she said clearly. "ADDLESON, ERIC"

None of the new students stood up, and they all started looking at each other trying to figure out who was being called.

"ADDLESON, ERIC" McGonagall called again, and then took a closer look at her scroll.

"Oh, terribly sorry. Unfortunately, the magic book lists magical births not parentage. Well, if you're not here just don't answer," she said in a neutral tone.

Neville smiled widely. While she had made it clear he could expect no help from her, it was just as clear she was not happy about it.

The names became a blur to Neville as the ceremony continued. The only ones he really paid attention to were the new Gryffindors, and the names that were called who weren't there.

"KNIGHTLY, ANNE," McGonagall called, and the girl who'd bumped into Neville on the platform leaped from her seat and ran to the stool. She caught Neville's attention when she smiled at him as the hat slid over her head. After only a few moments, the Hat yelled out "SLYTHERIN".

She got up from the stool slowly, looking dejected as she joined the Slytherins at her new house table.

Once all the new students were sorted into their houses and seated, the plates immediately started filling with food. Neville spared several glances at the High Table as he ate. Professor McGonagall, whose seat was normally to the right of the Headmaster's, had given that dubious honor to Alecto Carrow. McGonagall was instead seated on the far right side, paying particular attention to her meal. Alecto started an urgent conversation with Snape, who waved her off dismissively. Hagrid, seated to McGonagall's left, showed no interested in eating at all. Occasionally, McGonagall placed a hand on his arm. Flitwick sat in his regular spot, unaffected, conversing alternately with Snape and Sprout. When not trying to get Snape's attention, Alecto conversed with her brother. Slughorn sat between Amycus and Hagrid, keeping the male Carrow's attention when Alecto was busy with Snape.

Normally the Great Hall was filled with voices during the start-of-term banquet, discussing summers or the latest gossip. This year seemed very subdued by comparison. The friends around Neville were quiet as they ate, as though afraid to speak. Ginny attempted to get Parvati to talk about her summer, but after several monosyllabic answers from Parvati even Ginny had to give up. The air around the feast seemed heavy and oppressive. Only the Slytherin table seemed to be in a festive mood.

Without much in the way of conversation at the Gryffindor table, the banquet passed very slowly and awkwardly. Desert followed the main course, but Neville took no pleasure in it. Ginny was back to sulking, while Seamus had attacked his food with such violence that several of the new Gryffindors were giving him wary glances between bites.

Snape stood as most of the students finished their food, and waited for the noise, little as it was, to die down.

"I have a few start-of-term announcements before you retire to your dormitories. Firstly, I am pleased to tell you that Hogsmeade weekends shall be reinstated…"

The rest of Snape's announcement was drowned out by the tumultuous applause of most of the students in the hall, many of whom leapt to their feet. Even Ginny stood and clapped loudly, much to Neville's surprise.

"This?" he asked Ginny as he stood and clapped as well.

"Later," she replied, then turned back towards Snape and shouted, "WOOHOO!"

Snape patiently waited out the uproar. When it died down enough for him to be heard, the rest of his announcements mirrored previous years: warnings against the Forbidden Forest and using magic in the halls. It seemed Snape was going out of his way to show Hogwarts that everything was perfectly fine. Neville didn't buy it at all.

"…and now, Prefects, please guide your houses to their dormitories. I bid you all a good night, and wish you success in the upcoming term," Snape concluded.

Neville stood up and patiently waited for the house to form up behind him and Parvati. He led them to the Gryffindor tower more determined than ever to get the resistance off to a running start.


	7. Amycus

**Chapter Seven: Amycus**

Neville had wanted to sleep in the following morning, since his first class wasn't until three in the afternoon. Instead, he woke up to hear several muffled thuds coming from the only other occupied bed. The seventh year boys' dorm seemed very empty with only Neville and Seamus in it. Neville stood up slowly as the muffled thumping continued, going over to Seamus' bedside to see what was going on.

"Everything alright, Shay?" Neville asked concerned.

From behind the bed curtains, a misshapen pillow hit Neville's head, causing him to take a step back as it fell to the floor.

"Oh, everything's just fine, Neville! It's just us blokes, right? What the bloody hell could be the matter? Harry and Ron aren't here, and Dean is Merlin knows where being chased by Merlin knows what, but everything's just fine, in't it? What could be wrong?" Seamus said, his eyes brimming with tears. He screamed in frustration and started punching his mattress where his pillow had been.

"Bloody hell!" Neville said when words came back to him, "Calm down!"

"Calm down, eh? Calm down? No reason to be upset, is there?" Seamus yelled, continuing his violence against his mattress to punctuate his words.

"Sure there is," Neville replied, trying to sound calm, "but this _is not helping_."

"So what bloody will? 'Cause right now, this is all I can think to do that won't get me killed," Seamus shouted, some of the anger going out of his voice. He hit his mattress twice more then turned and slumped backwards against his headboard. He stared at Neville with sullen expectancy, the tears still threatening to run out of his eyes.

Neville took a seat at the foot of Seamus' bed and looked him right in the eyes.

"We protect who we can," he said to Seamus.

"How? With what?" Seamus asked, disbelieving, "They've already won."

"Not until we give up," Neville retorted.

"Look around you, Neville. Snape's the headmaster; the Death Eaters are obviously in charge of the Ministry. And who are you and I? Nothing, that's what. Scum under their boots,"

"We're not scum. We're wizards," Neville said with certainty.

"And there's more of them than there are of us," Seamus retorted venomously.

"Not really, when you think about it."

Seamus looked at Neville skeptically. "Since when is two more than fifty, or however many Death Eaters there are?"

Neville got up and went to the pair of pants he'd been wearing yesterday and pulled out a Galleon. He walked back to Seamus' bed and sat back at the foot. Seamus watched without a single word.

"When two have an army at their back," Neville said, laying the coin between them.

Seamus looked at the coin without any comprehension. "What army?" he asked, confused.

"Dumbledore's Army," Neville replied simply.

Seamus' face contorted in anger. "That didn't work last time, did it? Harry got his little gang together, and what happened? He dumped it when he didn't need it anymore. He went off with Ron and Hermione and left us to rot. I'm not going to be fooled into that again."

"Harry will come back…" Neville began.

"Not if he's smart. He's Undesirable Number One, remember? Smart money is on him fleeing the country, let alone coming back here."

"When has Harry ever run away from anything, Shay?" Neville retorted.

Seamus opened his mouth as if to reply, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, then gave up on replying. He shrugged instead.

"He'll come back. The question is what is he going to come back to? Scared children or adults doing what we can to help?" Neville asked.

Seamus stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "Scared children live longer."

* * *

Neville found it was almost eleven o'clock, so he took a seat on the sofa next to the hearth, summoned his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ from his room and curled up to read.

At half past eleven, Ginny walked into the common room and sat next to Neville.

"He gave us an essay," she said in a frustrated tone.

"Which class? I'll help if I can," Neville asked.

"Nev, you don't get it. _Hagrid_ assigned the essay," Ginny replied urgently. Neville just looked at her, confusion his only reaction.

"He's never done that before. He didn't even bring anything, just told us to read quietly from our textbooks then assigned the work at the end of class. It was really weird," Ginny continued. "And I think…" she said. She paused to look around the common room before whispering, "I think he was a bit drunk."

"What's the essay on?" he asked her. While he had heard everything, he still hadn't processed it all.

"How does that matter? I think Hagrid needs our help!" Ginny said fervently.

It took Neville a while to come up with an answer. Ginny sat beside him bouncing her legs impatiently.

"Hagrid will be fine. He can take care of himself," Neville finally replied. "What we need to worry about is the students who can't."

Ginny sighed huffily but didn't say anything. Long experience had taught Neville this was her way of admitting he was right without actually saying so. A few minutes later several other girls came in to the Tower, and Ginny got up to join them. Having long ago developed a deep hatred for gossip, Neville elected not to join her.

He went to the Great Hall for lunch which was once again a subdued affair. Luna waved at him from the Ravenclaw table but kept her seat. Neville ate in silence, reviewing his class schedule.

Compared to Ginny and Luna, Neville's schedule was light. He had dropped everything except Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Unfortunately the Ministry had made Muggle Studies required, which Neville had never attended. He didn't relish the idea of playing catch up in that subject while at the same time dealing with a Death Eater. He was both slightly scared and a little excited that his first class of the year would be Defense Against the Dark Arts.

* * *

When Neville got to the classroom, the doors were closed. Students had gathered outside, clinging to two small groups. The Slytherin students were all huddled together, talking to each other in hushed tones. They huddled around Draco like they were seeking warmth from a campfire. Occasionally, one would look at the students from the other houses, snicker, then turn back to their cohorts. The other group was made up of a mixture from the other houses. Neville knew most of them from DA meetings. He joined the second group, blending in without drawing attention from anyone other than Seamus, who only gave him a sullen look.

"It's not like there's much we can do," Zacharias Smith was saying in a hushed tone. "Best we can hope for is to get through this without getting hurt."

"We've done it before; we can do it again," Ernie MacMillian retorted, equally hushed. "If nothing else we can make their lives miserable while they're here."

"And then what? Get arrested? Go to Azkaban? Sorry, Ernie, not my thing." Smith replied.

"But we have to do something, don't we?" Hannah Abbot asked, just above a whisper. "We can't just let them get away with…whatever they're going to do, right?"

"But they haven't done anything yet, and who's to say they will? Maybe they'll just, I don't know, teach their subjects," Lavender Brown said.

"Exactly," Smith agreed, "Like as not, that's all they're here for."

"No, they're…" Neville began. He was interrupted at that moment by the doors to the classroom opening of their own accord, allowing a billowing white mist to roll into the hallway. Behind the doors there was thick impenetrable darkness.

"We have another winner," Malfoy said, swaggering through the doors. Pansy followed almost immediately with a slight smile. The other Slytherins followed suit. All of them were swallowed up by the darkness as soon as they were inside, along with any sound their voices and footfalls made.

"I don't know what they're on about, but I'm not going into that unprepared," Ernie said, drawing his wand. Neville and the others followed his example.

"It's probably just a Dreadnight Jinx," Padma said, then stepped into the room before anyone could stop her. Not to be outdone, Ernie stepped through next. One by one, the rest of the students filtered in, leaving Neville alone.

It wasn't that Neville was afraid. He was just trying to remember what he knew about the Dreadnight Jinx, and whether or not he should be concerned about stepping into it. He was also trying to determine if this was some sort of test by the new Death Eater teacher. He was only dimly aware he'd been left behind.

Before he could decide what to do, or think of the counter-curse, the darkness dissipated, revealing that the interior of the classroom had been completely cleared of desks. The two groups of students remained mostly intact, though it appeared several of them had gotten turned around. They were all blinking and half blinded by the sudden appearance of light. Amycus Carrow was standing in the middle of the classroom, his wand in his hand and his face in a lopsided grin. He immediately focused his attention on Neville, who was still standing outside the door.

"Mr. Longbottom," Carrow began, sneering, "Why are you outside? Your fellow students weren't afraid."

Neville narrowed his eyes in irritation, keeping his wand at the ready. "Neither was I," he said.

"Then why didn't you come inside the classroom?" Carrow countered.

"I don't trust you," Neville replied matter-of-factly.

"I see," Carrow said, "So it was caution, not fear."

Neville merely nodded.

"Very well," Carrow said, then allowed the silence to gather between them. During this exchange, the other students had been looking back and forth between teacher and student as each spoke. All of them now seemed to be holding their breaths, except for Malfoy who merely looked bored.

"Ten Points to Gryffindor, for showing more sense than your peers," Carrow said. The other students stared at Neville or Carrow with dropped jaws. Even Malfoy's look of boredom shifted to surprise.

"Please join the class now, Mr. Longbottom," Carrow continued. Neville quickly walked to where his friends were standing, feeling very uncomfortable with all the stares he was getting.

"Now, who can tell me the difference between a jinx, a hex, and a curse?" Carrow asked as soon as Neville was inside. At first, no one raised their hands. Neville looked around for a moment to find Hermione, but soon remembered that this year, she wouldn't be here.

After a few moments, Malfoy and Padma both raised their hands at the same time.

"Miss Patil," Carrow said.

"A jinx is magic that must be maintained, and requires eye contact with the target. A hex is a temporary effect that causes no direct harm, but doesn't need to be maintained. A curse is a spell meant to cause direct harm, but can also be either of the other two, maintained or instantaneous." Padma said.

"Very good. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Mr. Malfoy, an example of a jinx, if you please."

"The Hurling Jinx. It requires eye contact to maintain and is used to throw riders off their brooms," Draco replied casually. Several Gryffindors shot daggers at him with their eyes for that response, Neville among them.

"Ten points to Slytherin. Miss Abbot, a hex example?" Carrow continued.

"The Bat-Bogey Hex," Hannah replied, looking defiantly at Malfoy. "It…"

"Yes, Miss Abbot, that will do. Ten points to Hufflepuff. Mr. Longbottom, a curse example, please." Carrow interrupted.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Neville said quietly. "Intended only to inflict pain. I'm sure you know it."

Several students caught their breaths, but Carrow only smiled broadly at Neville. "Indeed I do, Mr. Longbottom. If you are very lucky, I may share that knowledge with you. Ten more points to Gryffindor, despite your cheek."

Carrow looked around the room for a moment before continuing. "You will notice there are no longer desks in this room. That's because I intend to teach you through practice, not by reading from dusty books. I expect you'll bring only yourselves and your wands to my classes in the future. You'll learn by doing. Now, I want each of you to pair off for practice. You will alternate turns and rotate through one jinx, one hex, and one curse. The other partner will attempt to counter the jinx, hex, or curse being cast. For now, I do not expect nonverbal spells. We will get to that later."

The students paired off, and Neville ended up with Hannah Abbot as his partner. There were an odd number of students in the class, and since no one wanted to work with Eloise Midgen, she ended up working with Carrow.

The rest of the class passed in practice. Carrow had them switch partners after each rotation and never with the same partner twice. The only excitement came when Crabbe tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Hannah, for which Carrow actually took away points from Slytherin.

"Too early, Mr. Crabbe. We'll get to those later," Carrow said calmly. "For now, I expect no one to use an Unforgivable Curse without my express permission."

By the end of class, everyone had had a turn going up against Carrow. Neville was stuck with the distinct impression during his turn that Carrow was holding back, as Neville easily countered each spell the Professor cast at him. Carrow also seemed to be very liberal with giving points. Neville didn't keep track of how many, just focused on his practice. Unsurprisingly, The DA members in the class did very well, outshining the Slytherins in almost every case. The only exception was Malfoy, who was able to hold his own. Crabbe looked decidedly put out by the end of class.

"It's only 'cause I had to hold back," Neville heard Crabbe say to Malfoy as the class ended.

As they all packed up to leave, Carrow said, "Your only homework is practice. I'll not be assigning any essays in this class." This earned him a general cheer from most of the students, even the DA members.

"He seems ok," Lavender said as they were leaving.

"Seems being the operative word," Michael Connor broke in.

"He did give everyone points, but it was the same amount to all four houses," Padma commented. "One-hundred each."

"If that keeps up, we're going to need bigger hourglasses," Smith said, snickering.

By that time, they had reached the door, and the group started breaking off to head for their various houses. Parvati and Lavender hung back from Neville and Seamus, whispering to each other conspiratorially.

"Maybe this won't be so bad," Seamus said when the girls were out of earshot. "At least it seems he wants to teach us, not hurt us."

"I think he wants to do both," Neville countered, which ended the conversation. They walked silently to Gryffindor Tower.


	8. Potterwatch

**Chapter Eight: Potterwatch**

Later that evening, as Neville was studying by the fire in the common room. Ginny came tearing down the stairs from her dorm, waving a newspaper held in her hand. Neville could make out a picture on it, but Ginny was waving it too fast for him to make out details. Several other Gryffindors were scattered about the room, and all of their eyes turned to her.

"I knew he was alright! I just knew it!" she shouted, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Harry just assaulted the Ministry!"

"When?" asked a girl Neville vaguely recognized.

"Just a few hours ago," Ginny replied, and a cheer went up from several of the older Gryffindors. Seamus, who was sitting across from Neville, looked at Ginny with his mouth half open.

"Well, what does it say, Ginny?" Parvati asked as she and Lavender followed down the stairs behind her.

"Not much honestly, just that he freed several convicted criminals," Ginny replied, "but we can't really trust the _Prophet _to report anything accurately, can we? Point is, he's still out there, still fighting. It says he's still at large!"

"Three cheers for Harry Potter!" Neville shouted as he leapt to his feet. Most of the room joined him.

Ginny came over to Neville and hugged him tightly, the paper still in her hand.

"I'm so glad he's safe. I wish he'd have let us know, though," she said. Seamus, who had also come to his feet, looked over at Neville and Ginny and shook himself.

"Alright, Neville. I'm in. Just let me know when and what," he said decisively. Seamus then walked over to join the group of students surrounding Lavender and Parvati.

"Does that mean…" Ginny began as she released Neville.

"Yeah, we had a chat this morning," he replied.

"Good work, Nev," she said, smiling.

The group in the Common Room grew larger as word spread throughout the Tower. An impromptu party began which seemed to lift the oppressive gloom that had hung over the Gryffindor students. Most of them seemed excited and upbeat for the first time since they'd arrived at the school. Even the newly sorted students joined in.

Ginny magically enlarged her copy of the evening _Prophet_, which showed a picture of Harry with the headline underneath:

**Undesirable Number One Strikes Again**

She hung it up over the mantle with a flick of her wand and blacked out the "Un" so the headline now read "desirable Number One Strikes Again". She blew a kiss to Harry's picture, then rejoined her other friends.

Neville felt a little uncomfortable and thought this might be due to the number of students around him at the moment. He'd never felt at ease in a large gathering of people.

Lavender brought out a wizarding wireless from her dorm and managed to find a station playing upbeat music rather than news. Several Gryffindors started dancing in the middle of the room, calling for Lavender to turn it up. Neville got out of their way, taking a seat away from the main throng.

Neville noticed Seamus having a hushed conversation with a house-elf wearing three or four knit hats on his head, who disappeared with a soft pop. Almost immediately afterwards, one of the long tables in the Common Room was magically laid out with food in a buffet style, a keg of butterbeer at the end. This provoked a general cheer of approval, and the party got into full swing. Neville smiled as he got some food of his own, loving the thought of the Gryffindor table empty for dinner in the Great Hall.

The older Gryffindors started sharing stories of Harry with the new students, who seemed awed by what they heard.

"So you think he was framed?" one of the newly sorted older children asked Parvati after one such story.

"Don't you believe a word of what's being printed about him right now. He's the genuine article," Parvati replied.

The party went on for some time, well past the dinner hour. At half past seven, the Fat Lady's portrait opened to admit McGonagall into the Common Room, which caused shocked silence among the students.

"If this is a hunger strike, I don't think…" she began, but stopped short as she took in the scene. It seemed everyone in the room held their breath in waiting for her to continue. She pursed her lips when she glanced at the huge portrait of Harry above the mantle with Ginny's alterations.

"Carry on, then. Just make sure _that_," she said, pointing at Harry's portrait, "vanishes." She then walked back out, closing the Fat Lady's portrait behind her. A nervous laugh went through the crowd of students, which broke the tension in the room.

About half an hour later, the party was still going strong. The larger group had broken down into several smaller ones, and the air hummed with optimistic conversation.

A startled shout broke over the general din of the party, drawing Neville's attention to the far side of the room. Two bright silver balls of light came hurtling in through a closed window. The students backed away from them as they landed, erupting into a glowing hyena and a shimmering jackal. For several breaths, everything stood still, until both glowing animals stood up on their hind legs. A top hat appeared in the right hand of each, a cane in the left. The pair of Patronuses then leaned on their canes as they put on their top hats.

"Hey," the jackal said in George Weasley's voice, "Have you heard the latest news about Harry Potter?"

"You mean how he freed a bunch of convicts at the ministry?" the hyena replied in Fred's voice.

"That pack of lies?" the jackal asked skeptically. "No, I mean the real news, the things that _they _don't want you to know."

"Why no, I haven't heard anything like that. Is there a way to find out what's really going on?"

"There certainly is, you just need to tune in to…"

The pair of animals started dancing, twirling their canes and shaking their top hats as they started singing at the same time.

"_Potterwatch!"_

"Hosted by the mysterious River, that daring darling of truthful tales, only Potterwatch has the courage…" the hyena said.

"the boldness…" said the jackal.

"to tell you the real news," concluded the hyena.

"_Potterwatch!" _they sang together again. "_If you've got those run down blues"_

"_From reading all the scary news,"_

"_We have just the cure for you!"_

"_It's Potterwatch!"_

"_No need to fear old You-Know-Poo!"_

"_River can tell you what to do!"_

"_And don't believe any other news"_

"_But Potterwatch!"_

"_So turn your dial, and say his name"_

"_The Boy who Lived is in this game"_

"_If you doubt that, then you're insane!"_

"_It's Po...tter…watch!"_

As the last note of the twin's song echoed through the Common Room, the two dancing animals dissipated into shimmering mist, then vanished entirely. The only sound in the room was the song playing on the wireless.

"It's a riddle!" one of Ginny friends shouted, startling Neville and several of the other Gryffindors in the room. She ran over to the wireless and started turning the dial little by little, saying "Harry Potter" with each slight adjustment.

"Umm…what's a riddle?" Lavender asked.

"Turn your dial and say his name!" the girl at the wireless replied. "Then referencing the Boy Who Lived. Obvious, if you think about it."

"Not really," Neville said, still confused.

"She's normally right about stuff like this, Nev," Ginny replied. Neville hadn't noticed when she had moved up beside him. The other students gathered around the wireless with growing curiosity.

For a minute or so more, there was silence save for the alternating music and static from the wireless, and the girl saying Harry Potter's name. Then another student joined in, and this slowly spread through the group until everyone in the room was almost chanting it in a low voice with each slight turn of the dial.

"This isn't work…" began Neville, but at that moment the static broke, and a new voice came through.

"Good evening, and welcome to the first ever broadcast of Potterwatch, your best and only source for what's really going on in the Wizarding World. I'm your host, River, and I'd like to personally thank you for tuning in," the familiar voice said.

"It's Lee!" Ginny said, grabbing Neville's arm in a tight hug, and just as quickly releasing it.

"Now, the real news. This evening the _Daily Prophet_ reported that Harry Potter, dubbed the Chosen One by his supporters, released several convicted criminals from the Ministry of Magic. It appears he was working with two other as yet unknown allies, though we can all guess who these two were. I am forced to report that this story is absolutely true."

"What?" Seamus said fiercely, only to be hushed by several other people.

"We must, however, consider the nature of those criminals Harry released. For more on this story, I'd like to welcome my guest, who I am code naming Gopher for her protection. Gopher, what can you tell us?" Lee asked.

"I was one of the so called convicts freed at the Ministry today," a quiet female voice replied.

"And what heinous crime were you accused of?"

"They said I stole my magic."

"Wait, isn't magic something you are born with? How can you steal it?"

"That's what I always thought, but apparently the Ministry now believes that a Muggle can steal a wand and then be able to cast spells."

"If I'd known it was as easy as stealing a wand, I'd have done that straight off, and not wasted my time at school. So who did you steal your wand from, Gopher?"

"I didn't steal anything! I bought it from Mr. Olivander when I was eleven years old."

"Really? That's how I got my wand too. Let me get this straight. You bought your wand when you were eleven, but the Ministry says you stole it. Just how do they think an eleven year old Muggle girl found out about wizards in the first place? I thought the Ministry was pretty good about enforcing the Secrecy Act."

"I got a letter in the post that said I was invited to attend Hogwarts. It let me know what I'd need."

"How strange! I got a letter just like that when I was eleven. Could it have been sent to you by mistake?"

"It had my full name on it, so I don't see how."

"As far as I know, those letters are only sent to those whose names appear in a magic book at Hogwarts. Wait, did you infiltrate the school as an eleven year old girl without magic and forged your name there? If so, I'm genuinely impressed!"

"Of course not! I'd never even heard of Hogwarts before I got that letter, let alone know where it was."

"And isn't Hogwarts protected by an enchantment that makes it look like an old, uninteresting ruin to any Muggle who sees it?"

"According to _Hogwarts: A History_, that's true. I always saw it as a very impressive castle."

"So essentially, the Ministry thinks that untold numbers of Muggle children found out about magic despite rigorous enforcement of the Statute of Secrecy, stole their wands from experienced witches and wizards, pierced an illusion that masks Hogwarts from Muggle eyes, then forged or faked their way into the school to put their names in the magic book. They then learned to cast spells despite being born without the gift to do so, and have never been caught in these acts until now. If these accusations are true, it represents the single biggest failure in enforcement the Ministry has ever blundered into. You'd think they wouldn't want to admit to being outfoxed by Muggle children for…how long has Hogwarts been around?"

"Over a thousand years."

"That's right. Hermione said something like that a couple of times, I'm told. Her story of how she found out about magic is very close to yours, so I'm inclined to believe you."

"Who's Hermione?" Gopher asked innocently.

"Known as the cleverest witch of her age? Stood up to You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters beside Harry Potter in the Department of Mysteries. You know, that Muggle-born girl whose very existence twists Death Eaters in knots?"

This drew a laugh from the crowd around the wireless.

"Oh, right. I remember her now. The Ministry thinks she stole her magic too."

"I knew she was too good to be true! Anyone who can show up Draco Malfoy on a regular basis…honestly is one of my heroes. Taking the smug look off that boy's face makes me smile every time."

"You do realize that magic really can't be stolen, right River?"

"Of course I do, and so should our listeners. It's a ridiculous idea, not to mention an impossible one. Anyone with an ounce of sense can see that. So Gopher, what exactly happened at the Ministry today?"

"I was brought in, my wand was taken from me, and I was pulled downstairs. A woman named Delores Umbridge asked me which wizard or witch I had stolen my wand from. She had a bunch of Dementors waiting to kiss anyone who was found guilty. I was one of more than a dozen similarly accused."

This response drew a collective gasp from the listening Gryffindors.

"Umbridge? The Half-term Hogwarts Headmistress? She made friends with the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, you know. They carried her off and kept her for several days, which pretty much ended her reign as Headmistress. Apparently her charms work just as well on Dementors," Lee said.

"I would have paid to see that," Gopher said, laughing.

"So would I, after how she treated the students while she was at Hogwarts. She had a cursed quill she liked to use on students in detention. She'd have them write lines with it, which the quill wrote in the student's own blood, while carving the words into the back of the student's hand. This left the words permanently etched in the form of a scar. Charming woman to be sure, definitely belongs in the company of Death Eaters."

"That's horrid!"

"Oh, it gets worse. She painted the walls of her office pink, then decorated the walls with pictures of cats. Not friends and family, not even calming nature scenes, but cats. Who does that? This woman seriously gives the title 'crazy cat lady' a new meaning."

"No wonder her patronus was a cat. It still gives me the creeps thinking about it."

"As it should, Gopher. People who want to wear innocence while being rotten to the core are scarier than those who give you no illusions about how despicable they are. In any case, what exactly happened at the Ministry?"

"A man who looked like Albert Runcorn attacked Umbridge and freed the lot of us. He drove the Dememtors away with his Patronus."

"And what did that Patronus look like?"

"A stag."

"That is well known to be the Patronus of Harry Potter. What did he do then?"

"He lead us out of the Ministry. He told those of us without wands to pair up with those that did. It was really good advice. By then the entire Ministry was on alert, but he used the confusion to help get us out alive. If not for his quick thinking and advice, none of us would have escaped. Harry Potter, if you can hear this, thank you. It's not enough, but thank you."

"And thank you, Gopher. Listeners, to sum up the story, the so called criminals Harry saved were guilty of no crime other than being born with magic. You may take that as you wish, but for me, I salute you, Harry Potter. Keep up the good fight against You-Know-Who and his lackeys."

"That's all the time we have tonight, but we intend to keep bringing you all the news that the _Prophet_ and the _Wireless Network_ can't or won't report. We plan to bring you weekly updates if possible, so turn those dials, folks! Next week's password will be 'Granger'. Good night!"

The cheers that erupted from the gathered Gyffindors were thunderous. Ginny's was the loudest of all. The wireless was once again tuned to a music station and turned up obscenely loud. The party kicked in to high gear, with praises for Harry Potter and a general air of happiness filling the room.


	9. Alecto

**Chapter Nine: Alecto**

Neville started the next day with his favorite class. Professor Sprout seemed largely unaffected by the change in regime and taught Herbology with her normal mix of humor and hard work. They were working with far more dangerous plants than they had in previous years. Sprout started the class with a warning about the work load needed for their NEWT year and followed up that threat by assigning a 3 foot essay on the proper care and preventative steps needed for Venomous Tentacula.

Charms was much the same. Professor Flitwick had them diligently working on the proper incantations for casting a Fidelius Charm, a complex piece of magic that required hours to properly cast and assigned a 3 foot essay as well, asking that the students explain, in detail, the exact meaning of each word used to cast the charm.

Neville hated writing essays, but he wasn't particularly worried about not getting them done. His recent experience with Tentacula would help with the first essay, and he had plenty of time before his next Charms class to complete the second. What truly annoyed him wasn't the increased amount of homework, but how absolutely normal his teachers were acting. They weren't taking any special precautions against Snape and the Carrows, nor were they warning students about them. Then again, they had reacted almost exactly the same way when Umbridge had come two years ago, and there wasn't much else they could do in any case.

Neville skipped lunch to get a head start on his Charms essay and was pleasantly surprised to find Ginny had had the same idea. She looked up at him from her scroll as he walked in and frowned in frustration.

"The whole bloody world is coming unraveled, and they're still assigning us homework? You'd think they'd cut us a break, seeing as there are Death Eaters in charge at the school," she said angrily.

"We are supposed to be getting ready for our NEWTs, Gin. It makes sense," Neville replied.

"None of this makes sense, Nev. You should have heard how the Slytherins were carrying on before class. 'The world is so much better now, isn't it?' and more rubbish like that. How can our teachers just carry on as if nothing is wrong?"

"What else can they do?"

"Fight it! Throw them out! Make Hogwarts a fortress against them! Something!"

"With the full might of the Ministry behind the Death Eaters, that wouldn't last long. They're doing the only thing they can," Neville said consolingly.

Ginny frowned, apparently unable to counter his logic.

"McGonagall made it fairly clear we were on our own here. Besides, we are doing something, remember?" Neville continued.

"When? When are we going to do something, Nev?" Ginny asked intensely.

"Well…I…um…we need to get the DA back together first…" Neville stammered.

"Ok then, let's do that," Ginny said, taking her false galleon out of her pocket and tapping it with her wand. "I just set the meeting for after dinner tonight. Then we can get things going."

"That may not be…" Neville began but had to stop as a group of fellow Gryffindors came in the Common Room. Ginny smiled and winked at him before leaving her seat to go chat with some of her dorm mates.

Neville's unease only intensified as his lunch hour ended. He gathered his books quickly, packed them in his rucksack, and rushed out of the Common Room so he wouldn't be late for his first Muggle Studies class.

* * *

Neville arrived at the Muggle Studies classroom to find the doors already open and most of his classmates already inside. Every seventh year student still allowed to come to the school was crammed into the small room. Several of them were standing against the walls, since there weren't enough desks in the room to accommodate the almost 30 students in attendance. Alecto Carrow sat at a huge desk at the front of the room, completely entranced by a book she was quietly reading. Arrayed in front of her desk on stands were several objects. One looked very much like the wizarding wireless from the party last night, the only difference being it had a thin metal wand sticking out of the back. The second sat on a stool and looked to be a small white bottle or container the like of which Neville had never seen before. The third stood on its own, about three and a half feet tall. It had a wide bottom with a handle like a broomstick. A large bag hung from the stick in the front, and what looked like a thin gray rope coiled around the back. The last object, perched on a wooden stand, was a rifle. Neville only knew what it was from descriptions he'd heard from Great Uncle Algie, who had been at the wrong end of one.

Several of the students stared openly and fearfully at the rifle, particularly Lavender Brown and Seamus. Most of the other students feigned disinterest. Neville went to the far back wall to stand next to Seamus, who glanced at him as Neville arrived.

"Why does she have a rifle here?" Seamus asked in a fearful whisper. "What is she playing at?"

"I don't know, Shay," Neville replied quietly, "but I have a feeling we aren't going to like it."

"Good afternoon, class," Alecto said, looking up from her book for the first time. She said nothing after that, allowing the silence in the room to grow awkward when no one replied.

"I expect my classes to be courteous enough to reply when I greet them. Let's try this again. Good afternoon, class."

Several students piped up with a half-hearted "Good afternoon."

"Almost," Alecto said in a lighthearted manner. "I also expect to be addressed respectfully as 'Professor'. One more time, good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor," most of the students said, though Neville refused.

"That's better. Now I know many of you are confused, since this is the first year Muggle Studies has been a required subject. When Professor Burbage…retired," Alecto continued with a quick glance at Malfoy, "she failed to leave any form of class syllabus or plan behind, so I will be restructuring this class along the new Ministry guidelines. I expect each and every one of you to keep up, since this restructuring means it does not matter if this is your first class or your fiftieth. I will not accept less. I will not coddle you, slow everyone else down, or explain things more than once. You have a choice only in how you react to this. You can fight it, you can flee it, or you can flow with it. Which you decide to do, I leave up to you."

"Now, who can tell me what this object is?" she concluded, pointing at the not quite wizarding wireless. Lavender Brown raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Brown?" Alecto said cheerily.

"It's a radio," Lavender replied.

"And what is a radio, Miss Brown?"

"It's…it's kind of like a wizarding wireless, but it doesn't use magic to send a signal. It picks up radio waves," Lavender replied hesitantly.

"Naturally our half-blood students will be better versed in Muggle artifacts," Alecto said in an offhanded tone. While this drew a snicker from the Slytherins in the room, Seamus sneered.

"Very good, Miss Brown. Ten points to Gryffindor," Alecto said with a smile, oblivious to the students in the back. "Who can tell me what this is?" she asked, pointing at the white bottle. This time Hannah Abbot raised her hand.

"It's aspirin," Hannah said when she was called on.

"And what is aspirin, Miss Abbot?" Alecto probed.

"It's medicine. It can dampen pain and lower fevers for people who are sick," Hannah replied.

"How interesting. How long does it take to do these things?"

"Um..it depends, I think. Normally between half an hour and an hour."

"Thank you, Miss Abbot. And can anyone tell me what this is?" Alecto asked, gesturing towards the stick with the wide base. To everyone's surprise, Seamus raised his hand.

"Mr. Finnigan?" Alecto said.

"It's a rocket ship," Seamus said flatly.

For a moment his answer hung in the air while Alecto looked at him questioningly. She picked up her book and started flipping quickly through the pages.

"And…and what is a…a rocket ship?" Alecto continued, still flipping furiously through her book.

"It's a form of Muggle transportation. Much faster than a broom, but not instantaneous like a Portkey or Apparition,"

"I want one," Draco said sarcastically, just loud enough to be heard. Several students giggled at this comment, including Hannah and Lavender. Alecto looked up from her book and narrowed her eyes at Seamus.

"Mr. Finnigan, is this really a rocket ship?" Alecto asked quietly.

"No, Professor. It's a vacuum cleaner," Seamus replied innocently.

"Why did you say it was a rocket ship?"

"Uh…new teacher initiation?" he replied.

"I see. Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, and I expect there to be no more of this 'initiation' rubbish. Am I clear, Mr. Finnigan?"

"Yes, Professor," he replied humbly.

"Since you have volunteered, what is a vacuum cleaner?"

"A Muggle cleaning device. It sucks up dirt from carpets and stores it in that bag to be thrown out later," Seamus replied.

"Good, Mr. Finnigan. Lastly, what is this?" Alecto asked, gesturing at the rifle.

Blaise Zabini, who up until this point feigned complete disinterest, raised his hand to the shock of his housemates.

"It's a rifle. It shoots tiny pellets of lead at incredibly high speeds. It is used for sport shooting of targets, hunting for sport or food, and in war to kill others. May I take a look?"

"And what…wait…" Alecto began. Before she could continue, Zabini got out of his seat and walked to the rifle. He picked it up and pointed it towards a window, sighting along the barrel and holding it very professionally.

"Sight is a little off, needs to be recalibrated," he continued, then pulled the bolt action back making a loud clicking noise. Hannah ducked under her desk, and Lavender squeaked quietly in terror.

"Not loaded, probably a good idea. Looks like a standard .22 bolt action rifle. Not very effective as a weapon, but great for target shooting," he said, sliding the bolt back into place. "If you have some ammo, I could give everyone a demonstration outside. It's purely mechanical, so it should work, even on the grounds."

"That won't…" Alecto began with a higher pitch to her voice then before. She swallowed, the continued, "That won't be necessary. Please take your seat, Mr. Zabini."

He shrugged, set the rifle back on its stand, and went back to his seat. His housemates stared at him openly. Draco smirked.

Alecto shook herself, then addressed the class again. "So, class, what do each of these Muggle artifacts have in common?"

At first, no one answered, then Draco raised his hand.

"Each of these is an imitation of something we can do much more effectively with magic," he said triumphantly when Alecto called on him.

"Exactly. Ten points to Slytherin. In the case of the radio, our wizarding wireless is far more reliable. Our potions work instantly to cure fevers and pain, while the aspirin takes much longer. A simple spell can clean an entire room in an instant with no need to empty a bag. And of course, our killing curse is cleaner, more accurate, and more certain than a Muggle rifle. For the next fifteen minutes, I want each of you to come up with two more Muggle objects that do things which magic can do better, more efficiently, or more quickly. Some of you will be called on to share these objects, and the spell that accomplishes the task in a better fashion."

"Rubbish," Seamus said just loud enough to be heard.

"Mr. Finnigan, was there something you wanted to share?" Alecto said.

"No, Professor," Seamus replied.

"Good. To work, then," she said.

Alecto spent the rest of the class calling only on the pureblooded students to share their objects and spells and ended by assigning them a 3 foot essay on why magic is better then technology. Neville left the class angry and sullen, sharing Seamus' mood.

"You know what she's doing, right," Seamus asked as they left the classroom.

"I'm not smart, but it's pretty obvious. We're going to need to do something about it," Neville replied.

"We are. I'll be at the meeting tonight, and we can figure out what to do," Seamus said with a smile.


	10. Dumbledore's Band

**Chapter Ten: Dumbledore's Band**

Neville ate his dinner quickly. He had no idea how many people would show up to Ginny's meeting, but he wanted to get there early to set up the room. As he rushed out of the Great Hall, Neville noticed Ginny had the same idea he did. She joined him as he walked.

"Race you!" Ginny burst out when they'd walked through the doors, then took off at a run before Neville could protest. He sighed and took off after her, knowing that just letting her win without trying would disappoint her. He managed to only stumble twice on the way to the seventh floor, banging his knee on a stair in the process. Of course, Neville not being as athletic as Ginny, she beat him to the seventh floor. When he turned the corner into the hallway with the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, she was leaning up against the wall across from it, looking at her nails.

"What kept you?" she asked, without a hint of the breathlessness Neville felt.

"Girl," Neville replied, smiling broadly.

As Ginny started to reply, Luna skipped around a corner from the hallway behind Neville.

"Hello," Luna said airily, waving at them both. "I got your message at lunch."

"Now hold on a moment…" Ginny began.

"Let's set up the room," Neville interrupted, fighting his own laughter. Ginny gave him a sullen look but gestured him forward.

_I need a place to meet in secret that the Carrows can't find, _Neville thought as he walked by the blank wall. Ginny paced back and forth waiting, while Luna looked up at the ceiling.

He stopped half way through his second pass. "Wait. Forgot about Snape," Neville said half to himself.

"Forgot what about Snape?" Luna asked, turning her curious gaze back to Neville.

"Forgot to keep him out. I want to make sure this meeting is safe and secret, so I need to tell the room to keep out…well, who else but the Carrows and Snape should we keep out? Malfoy, maybe?"

"Why not just ask that only DA members be able to find the room?" Luna said lightly.

"That's brilliant. Ok, trying again," Neville replied.

_I need a place to meet that only DA members can find._ Neville thought as he walked past the blank wall three times.

Ginny leapt to the door when it appeared. Neville and Luna followed closely behind her.

The room was smaller than it had been for the first DA meeting. Comfortable chairs were arranged in a circle, and a low fire burned in a fireplace on the far wall. The walls were otherwise bare. Luna smiled and walked to one of the chairs.

"Well done, Neville," she said as she sat down.

Ginny took a walk around the small room, peering at the walls intently. After the short inspection, she nodded and took a seat next to Luna. Neville sat down across from them.

The door opened only a few moments later, and Hannah Abbot walked into the room.

"Hello, Neville!" Hannah said quietly, smiling, "Nice day for a DA meeting, isn't it?"

Ginny smiled, sprung out of her seat, and bounded over one of the chairs. She nearly tackled Hannah in a hug.

"I'm so glad you came!" Ginny said as she pulled back. "We were all so worried when you left last year, and not a word since! How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing alright now. I'm far more worried about Ernie to be honest. He's not coming, apparently," Hannah replied.

"Why not?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. He's been acting really weird. He hasn't said more than a few words to me since we got to school, and he's been hanging out with Zach a lot. Whispered conversations and such. I'm worried Zach got to Ernie somehow."

"Why is that a problem? Smith is a prat, but he's one of us," Ginny said.

"I don't think so, not anymore," Hannah replied. "I know we've only been back at school a little while, but Zach's been saying things. He's tried to get me to admit that the school is better without Muggle-borns. He's even referred to them as…well…I don't want to say it."

"Bloody hell! The last thing we need right now is someone who's going to rat us out!" Ginny said emphatically.

"He may not," Neville replied. "The contract is still in effect."

"If he's taken up the Ministry line…" Ginny responded.

"I don't know if he has, but he's definitely talking like it," Hannah said in a worried tone. "When I asked Ernie if he was coming, he said it wasn't a good idea."

"I can't see Ernie going along with that rubbish, Hannah," Ginny said.

"I hope not, Ginny. I really hope not," Hannah said.

The two girls took their seats. Ginny sat beside Luna, and Hannah took the chair next to Neville.

"I was so sorry to hear about your mum," Neville said quietly, reaching over to pat Hannah's shoulder consolingly.

Hannah reached up and squeezed Neville's hand. "It's better now that I have some distance from it. Thank you, Neville."

"We thought you might be back after…well, after. Do you mind telling us?" Ginny asked.

"When mum…died, father had to take more hours at the Ministry, and someone had to stay home to look after my sister. I volunteered. That all changed with the new law making attendance mandatory."

Just as Ginny was about to reply, Seamus opened the door to the meeting room and stepped swiftly inside, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry I'm late. I wanted to make sure I wasn't followed," Seamus said as he walked over to sit down. "Is this it?"

"All that's shown up so far," Ginny responded. "Any word on anyone else?"

"I was trying to get Parvati to come, but she's too scared. She said during dinner that she and her sister were going to try and keep their heads down and make it through school. Not even reminding her she's a Gryffindor helped."

"Blimey," Ginny whispered loudly. "So…what about Lavender? Or Michael?"

"Lavender wouldn't even meet my eyes as I left, and I saw Padma pulling Michael back into his seat in the Great Hall when he tried to follow me out. I think this is it, Ginny," Seamus replied.

"What about Susan? She's back in school," Luna said quietly, looking at Hannah.

"I don't know. I haven't really talked to her since I got back," Hannah replied.

"So much for an army at our backs," Seamus sighed as he took a seat next to Ginny.

"We're not even a section, are we?" Ginny asked sullenly.

"Need at least eight for a section," Seamus replied.

"We're a band!" Luna said excitedly. "Oh, that's lovely!"

"Not yet," Neville said, confused. "I don't think Snape or the Carrows know about us yet."

"Not banned, band, like band of merry men!" Luna replied. "It's perfect! I'm Alan-a-Dale, and Ginny, you're Little John!"

"I'm not little!" Ginny protested.

"Oh! Luna that's brilliant!" Hannah interjected. "I'll be Friar Tuck!"

"Right! I'm Will Scarlett!" Seamus piped in.

"Half a moment!" Neville said, now thoroughly lost. "What are we talking about?"

"Robin Hood!" Luna exclaimed, "He robbed from the rich and gave to the poor! We can take magic from purebloods and give it to Muggles!"

"I don't think it works that way…" Neville said, still not sure what was going on.

"You know Robin Hood! He helped Rowena Ravenclaw rescue Alberich Grunnion from the dungeons of the Sheriff of Nottingham," Luna said.

"I don't know that part of the story," Hannah said.

"I don't know any of this story," Neville complained.

"Neither do I," Ginny said.

"Well that won't do, will it! Can't have our Robin Hood not knowing who he is, can we?" Seamus said.

"Wait, who's Robin Hood?" Neville asked.

"You are, of course" Luna replied.

"Thought that was kind of obvious," Hannah said.

"You're the one who's getting us back together, mate," Seamus said, smiling at Neville.

"So, what does that mean, exactly?" Neville asked.

"It means you're our fearless leader, Neville!" exclaimed Hannah.

The others smiled and looked to Neville, who all of sudden found himself wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

"Luna and Ginny are leaders too," Neville stammered.

"Ok, so you three are in charge. Works fine for me. Probably will for everyone else too, once we get them to come back." Seamus said, smilng.

"That's a grand idea!" Hannah said.

Neville suddenly felt that he could breathe again. The thought of him leading by himself terrified him, but he was certain that there was nothing he, Ginny, and Luna together couldn't handle.

"Good, that's sorted. Now what?" Seamus asked. "I mean, with just the five of us, there's not much we can do, is there?"

"Oh, I don't know," Luna replied. "Some of the biggest things start small. A dragon's egg can fit in your hand, and the Rotfang conspiracy was started over a golf game."

"So we have to grow," Ginny piped in. "Leans us towards recruiting more people, doesn't it? Even if everyone left had come, there still wouldn't be many of us."

"Getting the others back should be our focus, I think," Neville said. "Then we can start getting others to join us."

"So how do we do that?" Hannah asked.

"We need to do something big! Something that shows we're not afraid, and there's no reason for anyone else to be either," Seamus said.

"Too right, that!" Ginny exclaimed.

"That would cause more problems than it would solve," Neville said. "I think we just need to talk to the others, see what the problem is, convince them to come help."

"So the plan is to talk to those who aren't here, and try to get them on board?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ginny said sullenly.

"And in the meantime, we really shouldn't try to recruit anyone who wasn't DA originally," Neville said. "We don't know who we can trust right now."

"So that just leaves one more question," Seamus said.

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

"Can we get some practice in? I don't know about you four, but I'm a tad rusty, and it's looking like I need to get back in fighting shape," Seamus said.

"Brilliant!" Ginny said, leaping to her feet. "Let's go!"

**Author's Note: **Since there has been some interest, Blaise Zabini knows about rifles because he goes skeet shooting on the Continent.


End file.
